Wee Birdies Sing: Revelries of an English Export
by SailingAwaySoftly
Summary: A Bird in Flight Sequel. It's been five years since Hogwarts, and Rue Von Straussburg is loving her new job, despite a snarky manager. When an assignment leads her back to England, she finds herself running into the one bloke she could never forget.
1. Of Prologues and Lager

I grumbled as I fiddled with the lock on the door to my flat in the Boylston Heights building. While I loved the history of the building itself, being one of the oldest remaining of wizarding kind in the city, the locks were rather pesky, and I had left my wand next to my bed that morning. Accidentally leaving behind my wand should have been the first indication that it was going to be a bad day, and I realised that as I stood cursing at the blasted metal contraption.

Finally, the lock clicked, and I marched into the corridor that was my entryway, dropped my key in a small bowl, and made my way to the kitchen. I sighed, looking through the post that had arrived before I'd gone out for the day. Nothing in particular caught my attention. There was a postcard from my brother who was currently honeymooning with Anna, née Walker, in Southern France. It said the usual: '_Hope all is well now that you're back in Boston. Looking forward to seeing the booklet about Egypt- the show was a laugh, and I maybe learned a thing or two! Anna sends her regards, and I'll have you know that I find this country quite suitable. The Frogs aren't so bad! Cheers, Klaus._'

I had barely been able to attend their wedding, but I managed to take a quick trip from Cairo to our estate outside of Dover and made it just in time for the ceremony. Dateless, might I add, and perhaps only slightly presentable. It had been lovely enough, with plenty of roses scattered about and other frilly things. I did get to see Rose and Fiona, both having somehow managed invitations, and spent a good deal of the reception afterwards talking to them. Rose had found a job working at the Ministry, and Fiona was working as a private tutor.

In addition to two of my former housemates, the Weasley family had been invited. I had received news of Fred's death last year, but had been unable to make it to the funeral because I had been doing research in Australia with my uncle. I felt incredibly guilty when I saw George, and even worse when I saw Mrs Weasley, however both shrugged off any condolences I attempted to offer. So, feeling awkward, I attempted to talk to Fleur but found her accent far too annoying.

I had half-hoped that Oliver would be in attendance, just to see how he was doing. Last I had heard, he'd been bumped up from the Puddlemere United reserve team to play Keeper full-time, not that I was particularly nosey about such things. However, it seemed that after I had left, around half seven, he decided to turn up. Klaus felt the need to inform me of that fact the day _after_, when I received the happy couple's thank you note.

I slid the new postcard between the latices on the French doors before I went to go skulk in my bedroom after grabbing my copy of _Witch Weekly_ from my coat pocket. When we weren't on assignment somewhere, I found life to be impossibly dull and could barely stand to stay in one room very long. I sat on the edge of my bed, swirling the silver band around my index finger- a habit I had picked up since arriving in the United States five years ago.

I pulled the magazine into my lap and opened it, thumbing through the pages again before landing on a particularly upsetting page. I looked at the moving photo of myself walking beside my mate and former boyfriend. Underneath the photograph, it read:

_Rue Von Straussburg, 23, seen walking the streets of New York City hand-in-hand with on-again, off-again beau Clancy Burke, 27. A source says, since Von Straussburg's return from Egypt, they have been particularly close to one another. If these rumors of romance are true, should we finally be expecting a marriage proposal?_

l scowled. Marriage proposal, honestly? Clancy and I, at this point, were nothing more than friends. This was utter rubbish.

I squinted at the picture, trying to see if Clancy and I were actually holding hands, but I could see nothing. It just appeared that I was walking very close beside him, which I had indeed been, seeing as New York City is so bloody crowded all the damn time.

After deciding that I would write an anonymous letter to the magazine saying that it was clear that we weren't holding hands, I studied the photograph. I didn't look half bad, for once, and was rather pleased that they had managed to capture my good side this time.

I looked smart, with a kelly green scarf around my neck, a vintage bomber-style jacket, and boots over a pair of black trousers. Surprisingly, I could pull off the "Muggle Look." I was certainly more tan than I had been before departing, and I knew that there were a smattering of freckles across the bridge of my nose from sun exposure. Having spent so much time outdoors also greatly contributed to the fact that my hair had a much more coppery-red tone to it, and my new fringe was brushed to the side across my forehead, framing my face.

I decided to tear out the page and scribbled a quick note on it with my peacock feather quill.

_Clancy, didn't know we were dating again. Why aren't we ever informed of this nonsense before publishing? -Rue_

I folded up the flimsy paper before giving it to my owl, Sam Adams. Sam was a rather small Elf Owl with the largest eyes I think I had ever seen on a living creature. He came to be named "Sam Adams" for two reasons: one, I bought him when I first moved to Boston, and two, his eyes were golden, much like the muggle Boston Lager. My uncle and I had found it quite amusing, and thus the young Elf Owl was anointed. He chirped before taking off out of the window I held open for him.

I wandered back to the kitchen where my coat hung off a bar chair before I decided I would walk north towards Kings Chapel to visit Lara.

* * *

Lara Wolfe ushered me into her flat and had disappeared into her kitchen, her honey blonde curls bouncing. I moved to settle on the sofa when Lara came barreling out of the kitchen and rounded on me.

"You didn't tell me you and Clancy were back together!" she cried.

"Wha-"

She waved a copy of _Witch Weekly_ in front of my face and pointed at the photo. "How do you explain _this_, Rue?"

"Lara, if Clancy and I were dating again, I promise you would be the first to know."

"Before Toni?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, before Toni."

She looked at me suspiciously before she dropped the magazine on the couch and reached for my right hand.

"I must consult The One Ring To Rule Them All."

Again, I rolled my eyes, but let her inspect the claddagh I wore on my ring finger.

She hummed before releasing my hand, "Yeah, I s'pose you weren't lying then."

I smirked, finally dropping unceremoniously onto the sofa.

"Now," Lara settled in a chair next to me, "what can I do for you?"

"This isn't a business transaction," I huffed, brushing my fringe out of my eyes. "Can't I come to visit my mate every now and then?"

"Rue, you saw me just yesterday. We had lunch together."

"So?"

She stared at me blankly before shaking her head. "I was getting ready for a date with Jack, we were going to go to some lecture up at Harvard-"

I sighed and fixed her with a glare.

"I can't entertain you _all_ the time, girl!"

"What do you propose I do then, _girl_?" I shot back.

"Why don't you visit Toni?"

"You and I both know that she's visiting her family in New Orleans and won't be back until tomorrow."

"You are a witch, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't feel like apparating or flooing..."

Lara nodded, "Therein lies the problem!"

"Exactly! So, how about you postpone that little date of yours, and we could go to the cinema or something? I'm in the mood for a laugh."

"You want to," she regarded me curiously, "do muggle things?"

"Well, I've done just about everything else in this bloody town."

Lara giggled as she always did when I said things that were distinctively "British," as she so eloquently put.

"Sorry, Rue, but-"

I pouted. "Please, Lara?"

"No," she said firmly. "Now, I'm going to ask you to leave. I love you, you're awesome, but sometimes," she said, her hand on my back as she guided me to the door, "you've just got to spread your wings and fly, little bird."

Lara called after me as I dejectedly walked down the corridor and towards the stairs, dreading the cold November air I would soon be facing, "Be free!"

* * *

Later that night, I lay on my bed, rolling the familiar silver band between my fingers. I sighed, leaning over to hold it closer to the light of a candle so that I could read the inscription. The reflection of the small flame danced in the even smaller garnet and sapphires. The inscription seemed to glow. "The nightly heavens are not more beautiful than you," it read. I sighed, ridding my mind of the memories that threatened to flood it, and slid the ring back onto my finger before my eyes settled on a framed picture of Lara, Toni, and I standing and waving excitedly in front of Faneuil Hall. I smiled before I blew out the candle and fell asleep.

**

* * *

And so begins the sequel to **_**A Bird in Flight**_**. If you've just stumbled upon this, I suggest you read BiF first- it'll help to clear a lot up and you'll know where Rue's coming from. That being said, I hope you all enjoyed this prologue. If you have any questions at all, **_**feel free to leave them in a review**_** and I will try my best to answer them, if I can. As always, Jo Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, I own characters you don't recognize from it and the plot. Sam Adams (the beer company, obviously) owns Boston Lager. And all places mentioned, except for Boylston Heights, are real, should you ever visit Boston. I promise that Oliver will be making an appearance within two chapters! Anyway, **_**please oh please review**_**! Yours.**


	2. Of Drizzle and Linguini

Two days later, an incessant pecking made me awaken from the deep, much needed sleep I had very much been enjoying. I rolled over to look at the clock on my bedside table and groaned when I saw it was already ten.

I hauled myself up and went to open the window where Sam Adams continued to peck. He zoomed in to escape the light drizzle that fell from the sky, and I followed him to the living room. He sat on top of his cage, chest puffed out as though he were quite pleased with himself. I picked up the small stack of post he had dropped on top of my desk. There was a response from Clancy saying he wished the same, a bill for something or another that I'd eventually get around to paying off, and a small red envelope.

I cringed as I cracked the wax seal. The howler jumped to life.

"RÜDIGER VON STRAUSSBURG," the voice of my manager, Sean Pierce, shouted, "IF YOU DO NOT GET YOUR SORRY ASS TO THE MEETING BY ELEVEN O'CLOCK, I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE OUT OF A JOB BY THE END OF THE WEEK."

After a little spiel on the importance of being timely and whatnot, the howler proceeded to shred itself up. I glanced at Sam who was giving me what could only be called a judgmental look. I reached into a box next to his cage and handed him an owl treat.

I went to my kitchen to quickly fix up some toast and tea before changing and sprinting out the front door and to Magick Studios. I held my umbrella high above my head so as to not poke others' eyes out. I'm sure the muggles thought I was just another business person running incredibly late for a meeting as I dodged in and out of pedestrians along the sidewalk, my scarf flying behind me.

I turned down an alleyway, quickly checking to make sure no one was following me, before hurrying to a high wall at the end of the alley. I pulled out my wand and, after carefully surveying and locating the brick I needed, I poked the tip in the small hole near the top right corner of the brick. I stepped back when the brick wall cracked down the middle and separated as if it were a door, revealing Shaw Square, a wizarding business and shopping district. I went through, weaving in and out of the clumps of wizards and witches.

For a moment, I stopped in front of my favourite store, 1776, looking through the window at a new robe with matching gloves. I was about to go inside when I glanced at my watch and saw that I only had five minutes. I made a mental note to stop in after the meeting. I took off at a sprint again, almost tripping over a small dog as I reached the front door of the studios. I wrenched it open, flew past the secretary who shot me a disapproving look while yelling at me to wipe off my boots, and jumped up the stairs two at a time.

* * *

"You're three minutes late," Sean said, looking up from his watch as soon as I reached the fourth floor.

"Sorry, at least I made it," I heaved. He held out a cup of coffee for me, and I took it. I followed him to the small conference room that was decorated with posters and magazine clippings of Sean's latest success story: Lara, Toni and myself with our hit radio show and accompanying booklet, _Chasing History_.

Lara and Toni looked up at us when Sean made a show of ushering me into the room. Toni smirked and pointed to the empty chair next to her.

"Hello," I whispered as Sean collected and organised the papers he had in front of himself.

"Hey," Toni Townsend said cheerfully.

Sean cleared his throat, and I turned my full attention to him as I looked up over the rim of the coffee cup.

"Before we start, I would like to congratulate you three on the success of the last show. We had a record high number of listeners, and the Egypt booklets are still flying off the stands."

"Yay," Lara cheered, beginning to clap. When no one else joined in, she slowed to a stop. I snorted.

"Now, we have two important matters I would like to discuss. First, Rue will finish working on the Quidditch report in a month so we can put you guys on air as soon as you return, if she can make the deadline," Sean gave me a pointed look. "Second, I've made all the travel arrangements for England. You'll be leaving us next Thursday and return in two months. The readers want to know about Stonehenge and Tudor England, and we're gonna give it to them."

"Cool," Toni said, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded over he chest.

"Wait," I said, setting my coffee cup down. "We Brits _did_ invent the sport, you know, so why don't we do the show with a team there or something?"

Sean regarded me curiously.

"We're going to be in England for two months, anyway. Why can't I just finish the research and the report for the Quidditch one there?"

Sean raised an eyebrow before slowly nodding, "And we could do a spread in the book about it."

He clapped his hands together suddenly, "I will handle this! You will be taking a crash course in Quidditch, and I will find a team who'll participate."

I exchanged looks with Toni and Lara, "Er, Sean, you do know that I played Quidditch in school. I don't need a 'crash course' or anything."

He waved me off, "Nonsense. It'll make for a good story and even better pictures, and then Lara and Toni can get in on the action too."

I rolled my eyes.

"Secondly, you're scheduled for interviews today and a photo shoot for _Wizards_. I don't want you acting like a bunch of giggly girls, and I want _you_ to watch what you say," Sean's gaze flicked towards me. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, sir," we all chimed.

We stared blankly at him, waiting for further instruction.

"Well, go" he gestured to the door. We clambered out of our seats and squeezed through the door.

* * *

I made faces at my reflection in the mirror as a stylist messed with my hair. Toni was watching and laughing next to me.

"So," she leaned closer to her own mirror, inspecting her dark skin. "I saw you 'n' Clancy were datin' again."

"We aren't."

"Figured. Goin' to get back with your beau when we're in England?"

I looked at her reflection in the mirror, raising my eyebrows.

"The one who gave you that ring."

I glanced down at the silver band, "Oh, er, well," I trailed off.

She smiled warmly, "I think you should."

I bit my lower lip and lost myself in thought. I didn't talk much about Oliver, at least not to Toni and Lara. Clancy had brought it up once, after we had broken up for the first time. He thought that I was having second thoughts because I was incapable of loving any other man except the one I had left behind. At the time, two years ago, I had denied it, but Clancy constantly pointed out how I didn't so much as look twice at any blokes I passed. I suppose that was true, but I had come to realise that American men just weren't my type. Things couldn't even work properly with Clancy; we'd only broken up and gotten back together four times before we finally gave up, deciding friendship was a better route.

I swirled the ring around my finger, now knowing full well that his accusation, that I could only wholly love Oliver, was true.

I huffed when the stylist gave a final flick of her wand and gently tapped my shoulder. "You're done."

"Thanks," I muttered, sliding out of the chair and going to stand by Toni and Lara in front of a white sheet.

"I hate this," I grumbled through a smile as we all posed.

Lara laughed, "Just make Sean happy, and we'll be off to your house in jolly ol' England in no time."

"Who said anything about _my_ house? I'm not letting you lot anywhere near it."

Toni laughed.

* * *

The next afternoon, we were sitting inside a small restaurant. I was poking at the salad in front of me, waiting for our lunch entrées to be served.

"Oh, no," Toni groaned as she sunk in her seat, looking towards the door. I turned to see Sean swiftly approaching our table.

He pulled up a chair from an unoccupied table and sat it at the end of our booth.

"Ladies, I have excellent news."

We looked at him expectantly. The waitress cleared our plates with the wave of her wand, eying Sean curiously. "Would you like anything, sir?"

"No, thanks."

She nodded and turned to her other table.

"So, what's the news?" Lara asked.

"Oh, right, so, I've got your crash course set up. You'll have a week working with one of the great British Quidditch teams."

Toni raised her eyebrows, "Well, which one?"

"Yeah," Lara continued, "The only one here who knows anything about British Quidditch is Rue."

I nodded. The waitress returned, placing our dishes in front of us.

"Well, I was getting to that," he said. "Anyway, if you'd let me finish-"

"Out with it, then," I snapped, twirling linguini around my fork and bringing it to my mouth.

"You'll be working with Puddlemere United between Stonehenge and the Tudors."

My jaw dropped, and the fork fell to my plate.

* * *

**And there you have it. Hope you enjoyed and would do me the honor of **_**reviewing**_**, as they really do make the world go 'round. Jo Rowling owns the **_**Harry Potter**_** series, and that you don't recognize from the original series belongs to me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them in a review and I will do my best to get back to you. Oh, and for anyone interested, I'm watching **_**Tron**_**, the original one from the 80s, and it's pretty awesome. Yours.**


	3. Of Mirrors and Sugar Packets

I stood in front of a tall, gold-framed mirror looking at a spitting image of myself, except I was wearing a wedding gown. There were arms wrapped around me, but I couldn't see who they belonged to. The mirror image of me beamed. She looked far more happy than I was certain I was capable of feeling. But instead of focusing on myself as I stared, my attention turned to the bloke who I had apparently married. I wished to Merlin that I could see who it was, and I desperately tried to unfog his image.

Why couldn't I see who it was?

I shot upright in my bed, startled by a sudden roll of thunder. I groaned and rubbed my eyes, "It was only a dream," I said.

I stumbled out of bed, already in quite the foul mood, and trudged to the loo. With the flick of my wand, the shower started, and I stripped myself of my pyjamas.

Feeling the hot water against my skin further cleared my clouded mind as I reflected on the dream. It wasn't new. It was one I frequently had, or at least frequently remembered. It was based off an experience I had in my fifth year at Hogwarts when Oliver and I had discovered the Mirror of Erised, which showed the heart's greatest desires. Oliver had seen himself winning the Quidditch Cup, I remembered, but I had seen an older self, with someone who made me feel truly happy and loved, because, as much as I refused to admit it back in those days, I was wholly jealous of Klaus. I still was.

At the time, I hadn't paid any mind to who I was married to. The image of his face was obstructed, but I figured that it was because I didn't fancy anyone in my fifth year.

I wondered what I would see now, if I had the chance to look in the mirror again. Surely, the image would be very much the same, because even I was enough of an adult to realise that I still wanted what my brother had. Perhaps now, though, I would be able to see who it was. Clancy, or... well, more than likely than not, _him_.

And that's when I realised that I was crying, and I couldn't help but to press my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall. I was certainly far more emotional, especially since Oliver and I broke up through post those four and a half years ago. Often, I found myself choking on tears at the most random of times, usually at the faintest thoughts of him, and I'd have to run and hide from the world. No one needed to know I was still as vulnerable as I was.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rue," I said, stepping out of the water and wrapping a warm towel around myself. I went back out into my room and changed into a pair of trousers and a green jumper, before going to the living room and sitting at my desk.

We were leaving for England in a day, and I already had my luggage packed. I should have been more excited to return to my home, but I wasn't. Not after the news Sean had shared the previous week. Why, of all the bloody teams, did we have to be fit up with Puddlemere United? Sean probably could have bribed the Chudley Canons for a lot less, but no. We were stuck learning Quidditch and about its history with the very team my ex-boyfriend played keeper for.

Attempting to redirect my thoughts, I looked down at my agenda. I was having dinner with Clancy at five o'clock, because we'd have to give _Witch Weekly_ something to work with before I left for two months. And he just wanted to see me off and be sure I was "in a good mental state," or so he claimed. I thought about canceling on him when I heard a loud knock.

I wrenched open the door, curious as to who would be visiting so early in the morning. Before me stood a tall man with chocolate-coloured hair and hazel eyes, a broad smile on his face.

"Uncle Friedrich, what're you doing here?"

"Rue!" my Uncle boomed, pulling me into a hug. "I was just in the area and thought I'd stop by to see my favourite niece. Would you like to get some breakfast?"

I smiled, "Let me get my coat and umbrella."

* * *

We sat at some muggle breakfast joint in a booth tucked near the back, giving us a full view of the restaurant and other patrons. My uncle liked to play a little game he called "What's the muggle doing?", and, in order to properly play it, you had to be correctly situated.

"He's going to eat it, I think," he said in a low voice, taking a sip of his coffee.

I turned my attention to where he was looking. There was a little boy, perhaps two or three years old, in a high chair, and his mum wasn't paying him any mind. He'd gotten a hold of the sugar packet container and held one packet in his right hand and maybe six in his left.

However, instead of eating the packet like my uncle had thought he would, the boy turned in his seat and hurled it at a waitress' arse as she walked by. He squealed in delight before throwing all the other packets he held and reaching for more.

"Quite the arm for a tyke," I laughed.

"He'd be a fair chaser, that's for sure," my uncle smiled and nodded, poking at the scrambled eggs on his plate. "Speaking of," he started, visibly perking up in his seat, "tell me about this 'Quidditch crash course' Sean's putting you lot in!"

I groaned, stabbing the prongs of my fork into the stack of pancakes on my plate. "He thinks it'd make for a great little spread in the booklet once we do our Quidditch broadcast. I think it's rubbish, since I know how to play the game quite well."

I took a sip of my coffee before continuing, "_I_ think he's just looking for more photo opportunities, but I could be mistaken."

"Unlikely," Uncle Friedrich said.

"I know."

"What team, again?"

"Puddlemere United," I grumbled.

"Isn't that the team that Oliv-"

"Yeah, Uncle, it is."

"What're you going to do about that, then?"

"There's nothing I _can_ do."

"Did you try to talk him out of it?" he asked, starting in on the hash and scanning the restaurant.

"I didn't just try, I literally begged him. Nothing. He said it's a 'done deal,' and that it's been paid for."

"Well, it _is_ only a week," he said slowly, knowing he was treading on dangerous territory.

"A week in Hell. Brilliant."

He threw his head back and laughed, before returning to his game.

* * *

Arriving back at my flat, I saw a copy of _Wizards _at the foot of my door. I bent down to pick it up, noticing a small note on the front.

_Looking good, though I wish you'd listened to me when I told you to watch what you say. But definitely one of your better interviews! Sean_

I rolled my eyes before opening my door and going in. I dropped into my armchair and, after looking through the table of contents, flipped to the first page of their "Thirty Under 30" spread. There were the usual suspects: a smattering of Quidditch stars, rich Mummy and Daddy's kids, notable philanthropic humanitarians, medicinal researchers, and so on, before I finally turned to the two-page spread of me, Lara and Toni, not-so-cleverly titled "History, But Not the Way We Learned It In School".

It was a fairly good shot, with the three of us jumping in the air and laughing about something, though I couldn't remember what. I turned to the small block of text under "Rue Von Straussburg, 23, Dover, England" and skimmed it. I saw nothing wrong with my answers to the five questions they'd listed, contrary to Sean's note.

Was I single? "Yes, though that's not at all relevant, unless you're referring to the rubbish _Witch Weekly_ recently published."

Did I find History boring in school? "Hell no, I always thought it was a fascinating subject, and at Hogwarts it was taught by a bloody ghost; how could that possibly be boring?"

If I could research any historical topic, what would it be? "You expect me to pick just one? Tosser."

How did it feel being known as 'the British woman who frequently has to be censored on air'? "F-ing brilliant, thanks."

What was I most looking forward to? "Going back home [to England for research] so I can have a decent cup of tea and not be asked to say 'British' things all the time."

All in all, decent answers, if you asked me.

* * *

Early the following morning, I met with Toni and Lara at the studios, all my luggage shrunk down and stored in my coat pocket.

"Ready?" Toni asked, smoothing over her clothing.

"Yep," Lara said chirpily.

"Yeah," I said quietly, a headache pounding against the inside of my skull.

Sean appraised us before starting his little farewell lecture, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I was focusing on making sure I hadn't forgotten anything, mentally going through a list of the things I had told Clancy to do when he stopped by my flat to make sure Sam Adams wasn't dead or anything, and worrying about what this trip would bring.

"Hey, Rue," Lara nudged me. I looked up, meeting her gaze before I noticed Sean and Toni looking at my strangely.

"I'm taking you guys to the portkey now," Sean said, disappearing through the door. We followed him into the small room.

"Oh, right," I said.

He presented us with a rather hideous hat.

"Alright, on the count of three," he said, looking down at his watch. "One, two-"

"Three!" Lara cried excitedly.

The three of us latched onto the hat, and I felt that familiar lurch as we began the short journey to England.

* * *

**And there's chapter three. I'm going to try to post another chapter either later today or tomorrow, because you probably won't hear from me in a week otherwise since I'll be at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando. Living the dream. As always, **_**please be kind and leave me a wonderful, lovely review**_**. Also, Jo Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, I just own that which you don't recognize from it. Yours.**


	4. Of Stonehenge and Bad News

"Well, this is cozy," Lara said as she waltzed in through my open door. Sean had us staying at The Leaky Cauldron, so Lara and Toni could "get their feet wet" before being thrust into the "brutal" English countryside. He thought it best that we just apparate from the establishment once we had finished our research and were ready to actually visit Stonehenge.

Toni sat on my bed next to Lara as I continued to unpack.

"So, Miss Britain, is there a plan for this afternoon?"

I looked up from a jumper I gingerly placed in a drawer. "Er, oh, Klaus and Anna wanted to meet you lot at dinner tonight. So we're meeting them downstairs 'round half six."

"Klaus being your brother, right?" Lara asked.

"Yeah, and Anna's his wife," I muttered.

"That's too bad," Toni murmured. I rolled my eyes.

"Ah, I'm so excited," Lara squealed.

Toni raised an eyebrow, "Hold your horses there, what're we s'posed to do till then?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I was gonna nap."

"Rue, what's wrong?" Lara asked quietly.

"Huh?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the threadbare armchair and tugging off my boots.

"You've been acting weird."

"Yeah, I've noticed too," Toni said.

I shrugged, "I've got a headache is all."

Toni cocked her head to the side, "Naw, for the past week or two you've been acting weird. Not just today."

"Yeah, aren't you all excited to finally be _home_?" Lara interjected.

"And, you know, back to The One?" Toni finished.

I scoffed. "'The One'? Hardly. Farthest thing from it, really."

"Rue, you broke up because of _distance_, and now you're back here. There's nothing stopping you from being with him now!" Lara gushed.

"Well, what if-"

"Tsk, tsk, don't start with that," Toni said, shaking her head.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"But we'll leave you to your napping or whatever," Lara said, glancing at Toni.

Lara had just opened the door when Toni turned to me, "We'll see you in a few hours for lunch, though."

"Yeah, sounds good," I said, rubbing my temples as the door clicked softly behind them.

I dragged myself to the bed and curled up in the blankets.

* * *

"Klaus, Anna, this is Lara and Toni," I said, gesturing to each respectively later that evening. Lara bobbed and shook their hands while Toni gave an awkward little wave.

"Very pleased to meet you," Klaus said warmly.

I raised an eyebrow but took my seat with everyone else.

Anna smiled and turned to Toni and Lara to start conversation, "How do you find England so far?"

Klaus leaned close to me, "How're you holding up there?"

"I had an anxiety attack earlier when a house elf brought me a draught for the massive headache I was having. I think I scarred the bloody little thing for life," I whispered, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

Klaus nodded solemnly, "You need to relax, Rue."

"Yeah, easy for you to say, Mr Newlywed," I hissed.

"Jealousy does not suit you well, my dear."

I shrugged.

"When do you have to see him?"

"First week of December."

"That's soon!" he exclaimed.

"Please, don't remind me."

Klaus placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "It'll be alright, Rue. These things have a way of working themselves out."

He turned his attention towards my coworkers. "So, are you two excited to go inside the circle of Stonehenge?"

"Yes!"

"It's going to be so cool!"

"Have you ever visited it before?"

"What's it like?"

And so dinner continued. It became increasingly obvious to both Anna and myself that Klaus was completely enamoured with my two American friends. We walked Klaus and Anna to the exit two hours later, saying our good-byes and promising another outing at some point before holidays.

"Remember, girls, to embrace the pagan within!" Klaus cried as Anna led him down the sidewalk. I rolled my eyes and turned to climb up the stairs to my room.

* * *

Two weeks later, we sat in the corner of a library, sifting through books and parchments. Lara had fallen asleep on her notes, and Toni looked as though her mind was on another planet.

I myself was hardly focused on the work at hand, rather bored of just reading about the rock formation instead of visiting it and talking to professionals who knew everything there was to know. We had spent the past two weeks visiting different libraries and archives, muggle and wizarding alike, to get our hands on whatever they had to offer. While some of the information was interesting, we mostly just read the same thing over and over. It was at that point where we were grasping at any new and barely relevant research we came across, desperate for more.

My attentions, though, were on the very thing I was dreading, the very thing that was merely a week away: the Quidditch Crash Course. Lara and Toni were relentless in their "Oliver Inquisition" and rarely went a mealtime without bringing him into conversation somehow. It had really gotten on my nerves, and I often found myself spending as much time as I could away from them.

Lara let out a sudden snore that seemed to startle even her, and she bolted upright in her seat. "Huh? Wha- what happened?"

"You were sleepin'," Toni said nonchalantly, her eyes somewhat glazed over.

We were all silent for a time, staring at whatever was in front of us absentmindedly.

"Could we do something?" Lara asked groggily. "It's not like Sean's gonna know."

"I agree," Toni nodded.

"Want to go to Diagon Alley?" I asked, closing the thick tome in front of me. Dust puffed out of its pages in large plumes.

Lara perked up. "Could we go to that joke shop you're always going on about?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Yeah, that one!"

I turned to Toni who shrugged, "Sure. Sounds fun."

* * *

We wandered in, Lara practically sprinting to the WonderWitch product shelves. Toni followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. I wandered towards the back of the shop to the counter, hoping to find George there.

"Can I help you with some- Rue?" I turned to see the youngest Weasley male staring at me over a box he held in his arms.

"Hey, Ron," I smiled gently.

He carefully placed the box on top of the counter, "I didn't know you were back in England."

"Yeah, for another month and a half."

"Oh, that's, uh, cool. I expect you want to see George?"

I nodded, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Don't be ridiculous, follow me," he gestured for me to join him. He led me up a flight of stairs and knocked on a door that bore a golden plaque that read "Mr Weasley."

"What d'you want now, Ron?" I heard George asked in an exasperated tone.

Ron grinned sheepishly at me before opening the door a crack. "Someone's here to see you."

"I'm busy."

I rolled my eyes and pushed the door further open, revealing George Weasley with his feet up on his desk, arms folded over his chest, and eyes closed.

"Since when did sleeping constitute as being busy, then?"

His eyes flew open and, before I could blink, he'd stood, crossed the room and pulled me into a hug. "It's true! My Rue-Rue has returned to me!"

I awkwardly patted his shoulder as Ron backed away muttering something about helping the other customers.

George ushered me out of his office and shut the door behind himself. He led me down the stairs, his hand on the small of my back the entire time.

"So, how've you been?" he asked.

"Well, and yourself?"

He smiled, "More or less the same. Why haven't I seen you sooner than this?"

"I was going to visit last week but then work got in the way, as it were."

He nodded, "I understand. You're too busy for your best mate. I see how it is."

I rolled my eyes, "Don't be such a wanker."

He laughed, and we turned down one of the many aisles. "Who else have you seen, then? I'm assuming you've saved the best for last."

"Oh, the best being you, is it?"

He smirked, "Well, yeah."

"My parents, Klaus and Anna, Rose, Fiona, Ron just now, you... That's about it."

He stopped and turned to me, "So you haven't seen Oliver yet?"

I shook my head.

"But you're going to?"

"I _have_ to. I don't have a choice in the matter at all."

"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sean, my manager, set up this bloody stupid Quidditch crash course for our History of Quidditch episode. Good photo opportunity and all that. And, being the madly brilliant being that he is, he booked the damn thing with Puddlemere United of all teams."

"That's rotten luck," George said bitterly.

"You're telling me, mate."

We were quiet for a while, George scanning the shelves above my head before he cleared his throat. "Whatever happened between the two of you anyway?"

"We broke up."

"Well, yeah, I knew that, Rue. Thanks."

I was shrugged, "Distance, I guess, was the biggest issue. And things weren't the same. We wrote regularly for a while, you know, but eventually he only wrote me once a month to say he was still alive."

George nodded.

"And then he was worried I was seeing someone else or some rubbish like that. I don't really know where he got that idea, but it resulted in a slew of letters in the course of three days."

"Mmhmm," George hummed.

"The last one he apologised profusely, but went on to say he didn't think it, well, _we_ were going to work out. So we agreed to break up and just be mates, or what have you."

I looked at my feet, "And a few months after that, I started dating Clancy, and that's when his letters ceased completely. The rest is history."

George studied me for a moment, "Rue, I don't know how to tell you this..."

I took a step closer to him, wrapping my arms around myself to brace for the worst, "Just tell me."

"Well, er, Oliver's, uh-"

"What?"

"It's a bit of bad news," he trailed off.

"Out with it," I whispered, glaring up at him. My thoughts were racing, trying to imagine what possible bad news regarding Oliver that George might have for me.

"He's, ah, dating someone now, actually. First time since you, I think."

"Oh, yeah," I said, my mind reeling for something, anything to say to protect whatever dignity and pride I had left. My blood boiled.

George raised his eyebrows.

"I mean, of course he's found someone else. I moved on, about time he did too," I said lamely.

George studied me, "Rue, you don't need to lie to _me_. I can see right through you."

My blood turned cold.

"I'm not lying," I choked out, feeling a sob fighting its way into my voice.

George sighed and pulled me against him. "Rue, dearest-"

But I didn't let him finish. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest, my body shaking as I cried, any dignity I had disappearing. George gently rubbed my back, and I felt him raise his hand to shoo away whoever had come down the aisle asking for me.

"Rue? You alright?" He eventually whispered once I had quieted down some.

I shook my head and clung to him, wishing he could just make the pain go away. Why did I have to care so much about a stupid bloke who I obviously meant nothing to?

* * *

Three days after the incident in George's store, Lara, Toni and I stood inside the Stonehenge circle, wrapped up in our thick, winter robes and listening to a particularly old wizard regale us with his theories on the circle's purpose. Sean stood at a distance, instructing a photographer named Robbie to capture this image, or manipulate that particular scene.

I was mentally exhausted, and, although I would normally be far more enthusiastic about being inside Stonehenge with the sunset playing gently off the freshly fallen snow on the ground, I could barely bring myself to smile. I had spent the past three days mulling over the news that Oliver was in a relationship, and I had progressed from sadness and disappointment into pure loathing and the desire for vengeance. I had made up my mind that I would show Oliver and that new bloody girlfriend of his that I was completely over him.

Hell Week was right around the corner, and it would only be worse with Sean there. I'd sent several urgent letters to Clancy, begging him to come to England for a week so that I wouldn't have to suffer through the torture alone, and I was impatiently awaiting his response. If proving to Oliver that I had moved on meant dragging Clancy into everything and snogging his brains out, then so be it.

"Hey, Rue, try to look pretty, will ya?" Sean called from behind a large stone. I turned my face away just as Robbie snapped a photo.

* * *

**So, there's an especially long chapter four since CrazyTuesday2 asked so kindly for it. Just don't expect every other chapter to be this long, though. Ms Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, I own that which you don't recognize from it. Anyway, farewell for a week, my darlings, and try not to miss me too much. It would mean a lot to **_**return to a ton of reviews**_**, story alerts, and favorite alerts. Those mean a lot to me. Until next time! Yours.**


	5. Of Decompressing and Archives

It was a dreary Friday, and I sat curled up on a window seat in my old bedroom overlooking the extensive property that was Chilverton Elms. One of my old Kennilworthy Whisp books was perched against the wall. I hadn't read from it for the last ten minutes, and I knew I wouldn't be going back to it anytime soon.

Klaus had suggested that I visit my parents in order to escape from the madness that was _Chasing History_ and to decompress, collect my thoughts, and so on before having to dive headfirst into my own personal Hell. However, the small foray to my parents' estate had been anything but relaxing. I anxiously swirled the silver band around my index finger, thoughts about the very near Hell Week overwhelming me. My mum, the dear, had given me a potion to calm my nerves, but the effects were wearing off sooner than anticipated.

I had yet to receive word from Clancy, affirmative or negative, and I'd been ignoring post from Lara and Toni who were spending one last weekend in London before we relocated to a town outside of Dorset. Sean had sent me several howlers since my quick departure from Stonehenge, his pompous voice calmly informing me that I had better show up at the address he would soon provide for me, "or else." In fact, if I closed my eyes and just let his voice infiltrate my mind, I could actually see him in front of me, leaning over a dark cherry desk shaking a long finger at me, before running a hand through his frustratingly perfect pepper-coloured hair in exasperation.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my vision, and I turned in my seat to see Nellie, our house elf, holding a small tray with a glass on it.

"The Mistress said that Rüdiger might need more potion soon," she squeaked meekly. I smiled gently and gestured for her to approach. She did so hesitantly as I swung my legs over the edge of the bench and reached forward for the glass. I knocked back the sluggish fluid before replacing the cup on the silver tray.

"Thank you, Nellie," I said. She bowed before scurrying out of my room and shutting the door behind me.

* * *

At dinner, my parents chattered amiably about this and that, occasionally letting me elbow my way into the conversation. For the most part, I hadn't been paying much mind to the topics of conversation. Instead, I was innerly fretting over seeing Oliver again and whether I would have Clancy around to fall back on. Merlin knew I needed him more than ever.

I was brought back to the small world that was the dining room when my mother said my name.

"Fritz, darling, don't you worry for our Rue?" Mum inquired as she brought a forkful of crab to her mouth.

My father turned to me after placing his utensils on the table, "Should I be worried?"

"No." I glared across the table at my mother who huffed and rolled her shoulders in what I think was an attempt to appear authoritative.

"See, Elisabeth, nothing to worry about. Rue'll be fine out there in Dorset all by herself," my dad's head bobbed happily as he returned his attention to his food.

"Yes, that's all well and good, but what about, you know," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "_him_?"

My father glanced at me to judge my reaction. I kept a straight face, doing my best to appear completely unbothered.

"As I said, _liebling_, she's fine."

I nodded and busied myself with the food on my plate, hoping to avoid my mother's pesky inquiries into my well-being. Thankfully, she turned the conversation to Klaus and Anna and how she so desperately hoped for a grandchild soon. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes.

* * *

"Why so glum, _prinzessin_?" my father asked as he settled into the leather armchair behind his desk the following afternoon. I lay sprawled with my legs thrown over the arm of an overstuffed couch. I grumbled incoherently in response.

My father hummed, "I see, I see. Why don't you go up to the castle and explore the tunnels or something historical like that?"

I rolled over and fixed my father with the best glare I could muster, "It's _raining_, Dad. I'm not going to go traipsing through the castle and get soaked, thank you very much."

He laughed. "Go to the library."

"I don't fancy reading right now, actually."

"Rue, I've got work to finish," he sighed, sifting through some official looking documents on his desk. "Can't have you in here distracting me with that attitude of yours. There must be something to amuse you in this house," he finished, clasping his hands over a folder.

I did nothing but childishly throw my arms up over my head. They landed against the pillows behind me with a soft thud.

"Why not go down to the cellar and look through the archives?" he finally suggested. "You haven't been down there in awhile, have you?"

I shrugged. It was true, I hadn't been down there since Uncle Friedrich had unlocked the door and let me explore it when I was far too young to appreciate anything within.

"Besides, you'll love all that old stuff!"

Dad rummaged through one of the drawers before producing a large, heavy black key with a shabby tassel tied to it. I slid from the couch, lazily took the key from him, and trudged down the two flights of stairs to the dingy and cold cellar door.

* * *

The oak door gave with a cry, and a gust of cool air pressed against me when I had finally managed to pull it fully open. With the flick of my wand, three candlesticks sitting atop an ancient desk lit, and I carefully placed the key on a rusted hook and shut the heavy door behind me. I perused several of the shelves before I settled on a large leather tome that I decided was the oldest thing in the cramped room. A phoenix quill lay next to it, so I gathered both in my arms and sat at the desk in the middle of the room.

I brushed the dust from the cover of the book, revealing shimmering gold lettering that read _Die Zeile Von Strassburg und seine Geschichte_, or _The Von Strassburg Line and its History_. I studied it for a moment, taking in the coat of arms stitched onto the cover, before I carefully opened it. The spine cracked as I turned to the first page of vellum. The family motto, "_Zwar weiß ich viel, doch möchte ich mehr wissen_," was written across the page. I smiled at the familiar words. It was most fitting indeed that we Von Straussburg's were primarily sorted into Ravenclaw.

I flipped through the many pages that described my family's history, how we ended up in England, how the spelling of our surname changed, our many traditions, the accumulation of wealth in the family vault at Gringott's... all things I was vaguely familiar with as a child of the Von Straussburg clan. Some of the text I couldn't quite decipher, since I wasn't all that familiar with Old High German despite all my knowledge of ancient runes, though it had something to do with the original magical properties of the book and quill and something about the Oaths of Strasbourg.

However, I was far more interested in the family tree that stretched over pages and pages after the bulk of family history, different inks representing different things. Most were in the same silky black ink as the family motto, denoting that the family member was deceased. Gold represented what relationships existed in the present. A deep red ink symbolised the direct Von Straussburg line. And finally, from what I could gather from the large spread of the last century, dark blue illustrated what possibly had yet to come.

The most recent page, dating back to my great-grandfather Abelard and his wife, Greta, was what caught my interest that particular afternoon. Klaus' name was written in a dark red with a shimmering gold line connecting him to Anna Walker. Another line, in a dark blue, descended from the gold line connecting the couple with two tick marks branching off it. From my deductions, this meant my brother and sister-in-law wanted or were meant to have two children. My eyes followed the crimson line from my brother's name to my own, and I was shocked to see another dark blue line reaching from mine into an empty bit of parchment that bore the name of the very person I had dreaded seeing for weeks.

I knew the quill and the book possessed magical properties beyond my comprehension, considering how old both surely were, but I couldn't help to think that the bloody book had gone mental and something was seriously awry. There was absolutely no way I would eventually marry Oliver Wood. Certainly, destiny and fate were not so sick, and I was not such a masochist.

I reached for the silver ring around my finger, wanting to wrench it from my person and throw it into the darkest corner, but found I didn't have the heart to remove it. Instead, I slammed the book shut and exited the small chamber as quickly as possible, desperate to erase his name in that obnoxious blue hue from my mind.

**

* * *

Sorry for a seemingly pointless chapter, except for that end bit. That's kind of a point that I wanted to make. Do accept my apology regardless; the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was amazing, but I picked up a nasty bug while I was there and I'm now laced up on medicines. Right, well Jo Rowling owns the _Harry Potter _series. That which you don't recognize from it belongs to me, except for Chilverton Elms which is an actual property outside of Dorset. If you were wondering, the family motto translates to "Much as I know, I wish I knew more." Fitting for a family of Ravenclaws, no? I hope to have another chapter up very soon. I absolutely mean it when I say you can expect Oliver in chapter seven, I promise. As always, be the wonderful readers that you are and _leave me a review_. If you have questions about anything, ask and I shall give an answer. Yours.**


	6. Of Castles and Claddagh Rings

Early Sunday morning, I found myself wandering through Dover Castle and staring out across the ocean from a perch along a wall. Thankfully, there were very few muggles around, so I didn't feel quite so strange bundled up in an ancient fur cloak as wind whipped around me.

I desperately clung the fabric, pulling it tight in an attempt to keep warm.

"Oi, Rue!" a voice called, the wind carrying the sound past me.

I turned in my seat to see an old friend making her way over to me. She too was wrapped up in a warm ensemble, a crisp set of robes billowing behind her.

"Mind if I join you?" Rose asked, already taking a seat next to me and pulling her robes around herself like a cocoon.

"Doesn't seem that I have much say in the matter," I smiled gently. "How'd you find me?"

"Your mum said I'd probably find you here since you weren't around the house."

"Ah."

"So, tomorrow's the day, yeah?"

I nodded. "As it were, yes."

Rose leaned towards me, nudging against my arm. "I promise you, it's not going to be so bad."

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, "Yeah, did the tea leaves tell you that?"

She threw back her head and laughed.

A comfortable silence fell over us then as we looked out at the sea below. The waves crashed against the cliffs. The sound was the most relaxing thing I had experienced in the past three days, and I sighed contentedly.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you he was dating someone when I saw you at Klaus' wedding," she murmured weakly.

I froze before slowly turning to face her, "_What_?"

"What?" she repeated, confused.

"He was dating her _then_?" I could feel my throat constricting.

She cowered slightly, "George didn't say?"

"No," I choked out, desperately searching Rose's eyes for an indication that she was only joking.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you hadn't heard about that, actually," she trailed off.

My hands pulled at the fur along the hem of the cloak.

"Rue, c'mon, you're both adults now, and you knew this was bound to happen."

I shot her a look.

"Aren't you dating that American bloke anyway?"

I huffed, rearranging the cloak around myself.

"Well, you'll have to explain that to me at some point, but..."

I tugged on the neckline in an attempt to distract myself from the anger that was, once again, bubbling inside me.

She cleared her throat, "So you still wear his ring, then?"

That was the final straw. I looked down at the atrocious silver thing before I pulled it from my finger and threw it as hard as I could with my left hand, finally finding the strength to rid myself of it.

Rose's jaw dropped as she stared after it. "What the bloody hell'd you do that for?" she cried.

"I've had enough of this nonsense, Rose," I hissed.

"Oh, you don't mean that," she scoffed. "Surely you still love him?"

"When I love that bloke again, Hell will surely have frozen over and Voldemort will be having a go at a third-coming."

Rose shook her head before pulling her wand from within her robes. "_Accio_ ring," she said firmly. And wouldn't you know it, the bloody thing landed right in her extended gloved hand a few seconds later.

She offered it to me but I sneered and turned away, sliding down from my seat.

Rose rolled her eyes and followed closely behind me, "Well, when you decide to swallow that nasty pride of yours, you should put it back on."

I didn't respond as I began down the spiraling stairs. Her voice echoed off the walls, "Chin up, Rue. No one, not even _Oliver_, could fall back in love with you when you're a right mess like this!"

* * *

I slammed the front door shut and unbuttoned the cloak from around my neck.

"Next time, Mum," I bellowed as I hung the cloak on a hook, "don't tell just anyone where they might find me."

"Am I considered 'just anyone,' then?" a distinctively silky voice said from behind me. I nearly fainted when I turned around and came face-to-face with a bloke who certainly _was not_ "just anyone."

"Clancy, hello!" I cried, throwing my arms around him. He laughed warmly as he lifted me off the ground and spun me.

He set me down, and I saw my mother leaning against a doorframe, a knowing smile on her face. "I figured I would just have him wait here instead of sending him off to the castle," she said. "Lunch'll be ready in an hour, should the two of you care to join me."

"Where's Dad?" I asked, slipping my hand into Clancy's.

"He had a meeting to attend, nothing to worry about. He'll be back to see you off."

I nodded before leading the way up three flights of stairs to my room.

* * *

I sat curled against the arm of a chair in my bedroom, hugging a throw pillow to my chest. Clancy was stretched out along the length of my couch, having made himself feel quite at home.

"And the bartender says, 'Sure, but why the big pause?' and the bear replies, 'I'm a bear!'" Clancy held his hands out in what appeared to be a mime of paws before he went into a fit of laughter and settled back into his former position.

The view from where I sat was something any female would appreciate as Clancy Burke lay there with his hands behind his head, nonchalantly displaying his V-shaped torso that still made me drool like a silly teenager. He had a mop of black, curly hair that fell in his sterling eyes which were framed by dark lashes. He was almost always clean-shaven, something I greatly appreciated when we were dating.

"So," he said, rolling over onto his side and looking at me seriously, "what's the real reason that I'm here, Rue? Has your midlife crisis come early?"

I threw my pillow at him, hitting him square in the chest. "No, you tosser, I just wanted some company is all," I said softly.

He sat up, planting his feet on the hardwood floor and cocking his head to the side.

"Really?"

"Well, yeah," I said lamely, rubbing the back of my neck as my mind raced to come up with some segue into the introduction of my plan.

He hummed a response. I was about to open my mouth to ask him if he'd give us another go, but Nellie appeared in the doorway and announced that lunch was ready.

* * *

My mother fawned over Clancy at lunch, much to my embarrassment. She had gotten this idea in her head that Clancy and I were indeed soon to be engaged, as _Witch Weekly_ had reported. Apparently, the photo had also leaked in the United Kingdom, and now she shamelessly dropped wedding hints to the poor, rather confused bloke.

I did feel somewhat bad that I was going to be using him, but I wasn't going to be upfront about the whole thing and say, "Clancy, you're only here because I want to make my ex, the one who has been impossible for me to get over, jealous. He has a girlfriend and has evidently moved on, and I need to show that I've done the same with you. Even though I haven't, really, but I'm working on it and you're my top choice!"

Obviously, that would be the _wrong_ way to go about doing things. No, manipulation needed to be subtle. As subtle as it could get. Because I really did like Clancy, that wasn't a lie. And, yeah, I'd be more than willing to give him another go. And he definitely was a great comfort to me being there and all. As far as his end went, he just had to act as I predicted he would when I set my plan into action, and he'd get to date the lovey-dovey Rue he so loved and cherished for a bit longer.

On the flip side, should he realise that the whole thing was a scheme that really only served to uphold whatever dignity I had left and keep it in tact for just one more week, well then, I wasn't sure what would happen. Either he would continue to go along with it, as I so desperately hoped, or, as things had turned out with Tristan during my sixth year at Hogwarts, I would be left all high and dry and embarrassed.

"Rue, darling?" my mother asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

I looked up from my plate to see Clancy flashing me with a brilliant smile from across the table, his dimples making him look somewhat like a child on Christmas. I returned it before I looked at my mum.

"Yeah?"

"Some post came for you, from Sean."

"Lovely," I rolled my eyes.

Clancy snorted, knowing full well how I felt about my manager.

"It's the name of the town you'll be staying in, with the name of the hotel."

"And?" I asked, sipping the soup from my spoon.

"You'll be staying in the wizarding hamlet Piddle Twitten at Trenthide Downs."

"Where, exactly, is that?" I asked, setting my spoon down on the table and exchanging a confused look with Clancy.

"North of Dorset, in a town called Piddletrenthide."

"Come again?" Clancy asked, trying to cover up a laugh. "Piddletre-what?"

"Piddletrenthide," my mum said more slowly.

I couldn't help but to laugh at the barmy name, and Clancy soon joined me. Mum muttered something about immaturity, but I couldn't hear her over our laughter.

* * *

"Clancy, please come to Piddle-diddly-hide with me," I begged, slipping my shrunken luggage into my pocket. And, no matter how much I tried, I couldn't help but to be amused by the town's unfortunately silly name.

He folded his arms over his chest, looking stern, "Rue, I've got work."

"It's just _one_ week. Please?"

He raised an eyebrow, but I had already known I'd won. "Gimme one good reason."

I paused for effect and bit my lip.

"Because I missed you," I said softly, swirling the golden claddagh he had given me around my ring finger. I prayed to Merlin that he saw I was no longer wearing Oliver's ring. Only his.

And it appeared that he did.

Clancy reached for my hand and took it in his own, looking down at the only ring I wore. "You're ready to give us one last try then?"

I nodded, looking up into his eyes lovingly. Damn, I should have been an actress or something.

"Alright, then I'll stay just this once, since I did take a week off of work," he sighed. "Piddletrenthide can't be that bad, right?"

"Not with you," I smiled cheekily. I was rewarded with one of his dazzling smiles.

"Besides," he said, tapping the claddagh with his wand so that the crown and heart flipped, "I've got to keep an eye on that Wood guy and make sure he doesn't try to make a move on my woman."

I nodded and laughed in response, and he gently pulled me after him down the stairs to bid my parents farewell and floo to Trenthide Downs.

I couldn't help but smirk to myself. My plan was off to a flawless start.

* * *

**So there's chapter six. You know what that means- chapter seven and, more importantly, **_**Oliver**_** are right around the corner. Sorry if you found this boring. I wanted to bring Rose back for a bit, and it was essential that I introduced Clancy. And Rue's back to her scheming, evil ways. And the joke Clancy tells Rue is one of my favorites, as silly as it may be... I'll probably have the next chapter posted tomorrow since I'm bedridden for another few days. As always, Jo Rowling owns the Wonderful World of Harry Potter; I own that which you do not recognize. Be the lovely people that you are and **_**make this ill author happy with the healing power of reviews**_**! Yours.**


	7. Of Scorn and Shots

Clancy and I stumbled out of the fireplace and into the small lobby of Trenthide Downs. Lara and Toni were sitting in two overstuffed and worn armchairs while Sean stood at the desk to check in.

Lara perked up and nudged Toni when she saw who had a firm grasp on my arm.

"Well, hello, stranger," Toni drawled in her thick Southern accent.

Clancy smiled, "Toni, Lara, nice to see you two again."

"Same," Lara chirped, her eyes flitting between me and Clancy and finally to the ring. Her eyes widened.

Toni seemed to have been watching Lara and cleared her throat, "Sean was worried you wouldn't show."

"'Course he was. I'm a better employee than he gives me credit for."

"Yeah, I know," Toni said.

Clancy was about to say something when Sean approached us, clapping him on the shoulder and appraising me. "Nice of you to show up there, Rue," Sean boomed. His voice echoed off the walls and low ceiling of the establishment.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled and held my hand out expectantly for a key.

"I only got five rooms for us and the photographer, so, Clancy, to keep things professional, I think it best if you shared a room with me-"

"That's alright, I can share a room with Rue," he said, turning to look at me. "Right, Rue?"

"Actually," I began slowly, "it's probably best you do share with Sean. I get right awful when I'm on assignment. I don't want to put you through that."

Clancy's brows furrowed, but Toni jumped to my aid.

"Yeah, she's nasty. Kinda like when she's got her peri-"

"Alright, alright, I get it," Clancy said, shaking his head. "I'll just get my own room."

I mouthed a "thank you" as he left our little group to go to the desk.

"You, ma'am, have some explainin' to do," Toni said darkly as Sean handed us our small, golden room keys.

I shrugged, "We're dating again."

"Since when?" Lara whispered harshly as Clancy glanced over his shoulder at us, his silver eyes studying me curiously.

"Erm, a few minutes ago, actually."

"You're kiddin'," Toni deadpanned.

"This isn't just a ploy or something you two are pulling for _Witch Weekly_, is it?" Lara asked softly.

"Bloody hell, no."

"Good," Toni said, gathering her cloak in her arms. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're back with your beau, and you better treat him right. Or I might just take 'im from you!"

And with that, Toni turned to climb the stairs. Lara followed suit, and I was left standing awkwardly waiting for Clancy to get his room assignment. Sean was standing by the door, anxiously looking between his watch and the small window. I supposed he was waiting for Robbie to turn up.

Clancy eventually turned, a triumphant smile on his face as he waved a key. I smiled when he joined me, and we made our way upstairs to our respective rooms.

* * *

Sean was leading us on a late afternoon tour of the wizarding hamlet, Piddle Twitten. I had changed into a black jumper and a more fashionable coat. Clancy was walking close beside me as we trailed behind Sean and Robbie, Lara and Toni bringing up the rear.

"That over there is the back of All Saints, the muggle church that serves as a gateway to this hamlet here. I'll have to show you lot tomorrow morning how to pass through it since we have to go into Piddletrenthide proper for the crash course," Sean said, his eyes never leaving a tourist pamphlet the concierge had given him.

I sniggered at the name of the town.

"And, oh, that's one of the oldest manors in Dorset," Sean continued, looking around, trying to decide if the small home with a thatched roof he was staring at was indeed the one the pamphlet spoke so highly of.

I felt a tug on my elbow and turned to see Lara guiltily staring at me before throwing a look at the back of Clancy's head. I rolled my eyes before turning back around, slipping my hand into Clancy's and leaning against him. He smiled down at me, dark curls poking out from under his beanie, before reaching his arm around my shoulders, our gloved fingers remaining interlaced as my arm crossed over my torso. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, but I had to keep up appearances.

I could hear Toni snickering behind us.

"Hey, Sean," Lara called in a whiney voice some time later as he continued leading us down the apparent one major street in all of Piddle Twitten. "D'ya think we could get some food? I'm starving."

I couldn't help but to nod in agreement. Sean sighed, "You are seriously a bunch of eight year olds."

Robbie laughed beside him. "There's a pub that we passed on the way out of the inn."

"Sure, sounds great," Sean grumbled. "Lead the way," he gestured.

Robbie shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, straightened the lapels of his cloak, and began leading us back the way we had come. He had a bit of a Napoleon complex.

* * *

"I've got to go to the bathroom," Lara said suddenly, perking up in her seat.

"Me too," Toni nodded eagerly in agreement.

I had rather been enjoying the in-house brew in front of me and was about to tuck in to the fish and chips when I felt their pointed stares.

"Oh, yeah," I said, standing, "I suppose I fancy a trip to the loo as well."

Their chairs screeched across the floor as they stood and pulled me after them to the back of the pub. I gave a quick wave to Clancy, Sean, and Robbie before they disappeared from view.

As soon as Lara quietly shut the door behind us, she and Toni exchanged a glance and rounded on me. I backed into a corner, obviously a very poor defensive move, but there was little room to spare.

"Rue, you're going to tell us what's going on this instant," Lara said sternly.

"And none of that 'Oh, we're datin' again' shit that you tried to pull earlier. Neither of us believed ya for a second."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why ever wouldn't you believe me?" I asked innocently.

"Because," Lara started, "we've did some research while you were home this weekend."

"And we didn't like what we found," Toni continued.

"And if _we_ didn't like it, chances are you absolutely hated it," Lara reasoned.

"So, what's this research, then?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Your Oliver, the one who gave you the ring, is dating someone else for the first time since the two of you broke up."

My jaw dropped. "How-"

Lara held up a finger to silence me, "Ah, ah, ah, not done yet, honey."

"As Lara was sayin'," Toni continued, "this chick that Oliver's datin' is a chaser on Puddlemere United- weren't you a chaser?"

I blanched.

Lara spoke up, "And it would seem, dearest Rue, that they've been dating for a few months."

I was silent for a little while, weighing my options. Was it worth it to tell them what I was really doing, or had they already figured it out? And if Lara and Toni had managed to work it out in such a short amount of time, surely Clancy would have too...

"We went through a lotta Quidditch magazines and _Witch Weekly_ articles. Plus, we talked to your Weasley friend," Toni said softly, finally backing away from me.

Lara took a step backwards, too. "Look, Rue, if you're just gonna use Clancy to show Oliver that you're strong and don't need him or whatever, we aren't gonna stop you."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "You... You aren't?"

"Heck no!" Toni barked. "It's gonna be a riot watchin' y'all."

"But, on the other hand, you're probably hurting Clancy," Lara said softly.

"And Oliver," Toni added.

"And yourself," Lara finished solemnly.

I scoffed, "I'm not hurting myself. Quite the opposite, really."

I sighed before continuing, noting their melancholic looks, "Clancy's a big boy, he's getting exactly what he wants out of this. And I _want_ to hurt Oliver."

"Because he's hurt you?" Lara asked meekly.

"No," I snarled, "because he's gone and royally pissed me off."

Lara rolled her eyes, and Toni shook her head, "Hell hath no fury like a Rue scorned."

* * *

A few hours later, Clancy and I stood at the bar taking Firewhiskey shots. Lara was being Toni's "wing woman" as she chatted up some semi-attractive bloke. Robbie was talking to one of the Puddlemere United players who had come in for a drink with his wife. He'd said they'd gone to school together or something, I hadn't really been paying attention.

As I downed another shot, Toni's laughter floated above my head. I was so smashed I could almost quite literally see small balls of yellow bouncing off of the ceiling and laughing. Why in Merlin's name did I imagine laughter to be yellow? I shook my head to clear myself of the vision and almost tipped over, but Clancy grabbed a hold of my arm to steady me.

"I think you've had a bit too much there," he laughed.

"Naw," I said, pulling what I hoped was an American accent, "the fun hasn't even started yet, dude!"

"Rue," he gave me a knowing look as he swallowed a shot, "you've got an early morning, and it's gonna be difficult for you as it is. You really wanna add a hangover to that?"

"Hell yes," I said, reaching for another glass and bringing it to my lips.

After the cool, stinging liquid ran down my throat, I turned my attention towards the table where Robbie sat. Another couple had joined him and his mate. A young woman, probably near my age, with long dark brown hair, alabaster skin and freckles was smiling and shaking hands with our photographer. My eyes slid up and over to the man at her side, and I felt my stomach drop.

Messy brown hair that was a bit longer than when I'd last seen him, the same dark brown eyes, those lips now framed by scruff...

I saw Robbie turn as he gestured toward the table Lara and Toni were sitting at, saying their names, and I panicked, knowing he would point me out next.

With a pounding heart, I whipped my attention back to Clancy. I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him to me, immediately slipping my tongue into his mouth. He remained frozen for a second before reciprocating and wrapping his arms around me. I leaned further into him as my ears strained to hear Robbie.

"And over there is Rue Von Straussburg, oh, uh," I could barely hear his nervous laughter, "well, yeah, she's not usually attached to her boyfriend's mouth, but, you know..."

For show, I pulled a breath away from Clancy and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Would you want to take this back to my room?" he asked huskily.

I flashed him a wicked smile as I curled my fingers around the fabric of my cloak on the back of my seat and allowed Clancy to lead the way out of the pub.

I saw Oliver staring up at me out of the corner of my eye, completely stunned, as Clancy and I passed his table, Clancy's arm thrown over my shoulders.

I didn't chance a glance at Oliver over my shoulder as we left the pub, but I could feel his cold, hard stare on my back.

* * *

Clancy and I had stumbled up the stairs and into his room. We'd spent a fair amount of time snogging when I suddenly pulled away from him and grabbed my stomach, laying back in his pillows.

He leaned over me, his shirt hanging open. "Rue, you alright?"

"I'm not feeling so well," I moaned.

He sighed before rolling over onto his back and sliding a hand over his face, grumbling to himself. "I told you not to drink so much."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered.

He sat up and buttoned his shirt before turning towards me, "C'mon, let's get you upstairs."

* * *

I probably should've felt worse than I did for using Clancy so obviously, and I knew Toni and Lara were right about this hurting him if and when the truth was revealed. Yet I was convinced that Clancy maybe knew more than he let on, especially if Lara and Toni had managed to figure out my scheme in such a short amount of time. But if Clancy was just going to play along, then who was I to stop him? Really, the arrangement benefitted both of us, in my humble opinion.

I buttoned my pyjama top and began to peel off my trousers when I heard a soft clink as something distinctively metal hit the wood floor. The all too familiar silver ring rolled lazily in three small circles before it finally wobbled and fell on its side. I strode across the room in my knickers and bent to pick it up.

I held it up to the candlelight between two fingers, rolling it between them and checking for scratches on the stones. Rose must've slipped it in my pocket without my noticing, the little minx. I sighed, my eyes crossing over the familiar inscription before I set it on the bedside table. My hands reached for the clasp of the chain I wore, and I pulled it from my neck. I slid the silver length through the ring and returned it to its place around my throat, making sure that it fell far enough down my chest that I'd be able to cover it with clothing. I pulled my pyjama bottoms on and crawled into bed, not at all looking forward to the following morning.

**

* * *

Woo, long chapter, just for you, lovely readers! And I told you Oliver would show up, even though it was just a cameo. Bet you can't wait for Day One of Hell Week, can you? So, I figured I'd be nice and post this sooner than I said. I think the meds I've been given are doing a wonder on my writing. Anyway, as always, J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe; I only own that which you don't recognize. Be wonderful and **_**review, review, review**_**! Yours.**


	8. Of Cold Chills and a Broken Nose

I groaned as a sharp knock on the door brought me from a particularly pleasant and deep slumber that only a certain level of intoxication could bring. "Rue," Sean's silky and muffled voice called, "breakfast's about to be served and after we're going to hit the pitch."

I mumbled something incoherent as I rolled over and buried myself further into my blankets. There was a shuffling outside and more muffled voices before the door squeaked open.

"Go away," I moaned, pulling the sheet over my head.

The bed sunk in as someone joined me in the bed, and a hand gently pried the sheet from my grip. Soft lips brushed against my temple. "Good morning, darling," Clancy's warm voice murmured against my skin. A small smile tugged on my lips as his arm wrapped around me and I snuggled against him.

"One more hour, please?" I yawned, already feeling sleep's claws sinking into me once more.

"No," he chuckled. "C'mon, get up."

I muttered something incomprehensible in German.

"What was that?"

I paused thoughtfully, squeezing my eyes shut. "I don't even know."

"Rue," he began.

"I don't want to," I said flatly, burrowing further.

"It won't be that bad. I'm going to be there, and I honestly doubt Sean is going to force any of you to do things you don't want to. Besides, didn't you play Quidditch in school?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not the problem, and you know it."

He was silent for a moment, clicking his tongue. "Oh, right, that Wood fellow," he said flippantly.

"Yeah, him," I managed as sarcastically as an exhausted person could. I adjusted the pillow beneath me before settling back down.

"Alright, on that note," Clancy said, prodding me.

"No," I moaned, rolling out of his reach and sinking further into the blankets piled on top of me. I could feel Clancy pulling them away.

"Rue, if you don't get out of bed, I'm just going to have to pick you up and carry you down to breakfast."

"But I'm in my jim jams," I protested, glaring up at him.

"All the better," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes before finally sitting up. "Let me get ready, I'll meet you downstairs," I managed through another yawn as I stretched.

Clancy smirked before ducking out of the room.

* * *

A cold December chill seeped through the trainee robes I wore, and I couldn't help but shiver. Toni looked the most uncomfortable, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she desperately tried to hide her chattering teeth. It wasn't all that cold, but the drizzle falling from the sky certainly added to the depressing ambiance of the scene. Sean was sitting in the stands, furiously writing away. He was always busy with something, and so the three of us were essentially left to our own devices on the field.

Clancy was sitting in the stands a short distance from Sean, a bright smile on his face as he looked down at me reassuringly.

The entire Puddlemere United team, including Reserve, stood before us in all their glory. It was rather intimidating. I was doing everything in my power to avoid Oliver's eyes, something that was proving to be rather difficult. Robbie stood next to the team's Captain, Edward March.

"Alright," Edward began, "have any of you played Quidditch before?"

I glanced at Lara and Toni before hesitantly raising my hand.

"Ah, yes, very good. And you two," he said turning his attention towards them, "I expect you're at least familiar with the sport?"

They nodded stupidly.

"Very good. Well, to give you an idea of the next week, we're going to start with basic training and technique, something I'm sure Rue's familiar with, but it'll be of benefit to all of you. From there, we'll work on more advanced tactics, breaking into specialized units so you can become more attuned to the art of your position. We'll take a break from intensive training on the sixth day and separate into teams. And the week will close with a final match between the two teams. Sound reasonable?"

We nodded hesitantly, wondering just what we had gotten ourselves in to.

"Now that's cleared up," Edward huffed, a smile finally tugging at his lips, "we're going to start you with a basic warm-up: four laps around the pitch."

"You're kidding," Lara whined. "It's cold and rainy! Plus, how're we supposed to run around in these robes."

I rolled my eyes, gently nudging Lara as I passed by her. "C'mon, you lazy twat," I said lovingly before I took off at a light jog with a snickering Toni at my side.

"That's offensive!" Lara called from behind us, the reserve players coming up behind her.

"How're things today?" Toni asked, curiously looking over at me.

"Manageable."

"Oliver's girlfriend was givin' ya quite the look while Ed was ramblin'," she commented.

"I didn't really notice," I said as we passed by the clump of the team crowded around Edward. The girl with ebony hair and alabaster skin glared at me as I ran past.

"Did you notice that?" Toni asked.

I rolled my eyes. "How could I not?"

* * *

The afternoon continued in much the same way. It took Lara a few times to get properly situated on her broomstick, and, when she finally did, she spent much of the time complaining or listing the reasons why she preferred to be on solid ground.

We practiced extremely basic techniques for each position. Lara was quick to point out the dangers of each one, and decided that she was best suited for Keeper, which she deemed the least perilous role. I noticed Oliver's smirk when she announced her conclusion, and I myself couldn't help but snort.

Toni, however, found joy in whacking away at bludgers after we had practicing dodging them. The first time she hit one of the black buggers, she snickered evilly as it darted off towards Lara who nearly fell off her broomstick trying to get out of its path.

As expected, I assumed the role of Chaser, which, after several years, still seemed second nature to me. As I sped down the pitch, the cool air whipping past my shoulders, I was reminded why I had so loved Quidditch during my schooldays. I managed to get the Quaffle just past Oliver and through the hoop, which was celebrated with a loud whoop from Toni as she pumped her fist in the air.

"That was great!" she exclaimed as she came up beside me. "I never woulda guessed you were so good at Quidditch, Rue. You're a natural!"

"Yeah," Oliver's girlfriend, who I had come to learn was named Keira Bray, drawled slowly. "Who knew German dwarves had any athletic ability at all?"

I raised an eyebrow, ready to shoot back an equally ridiculous comment about vampires, but I held back when Toni spoke up for me.

"What, you threatened by my girl's skill?"

Bray rolled her eyes. "Don't be foolish. There's nothing threatening about a half-assed attempt to play Chaser," she said haughtily.

Merlin, this girl was getting on my last nerve, and I had barely known her for a day. I lurched my broom forward, pulling up alongside her.

"Look," I said lowly, not making eye contact, "if you really want to play this game, I'm all for it. In fact, I'm the master of it, go ahead and ask your boyfriend, yeah?"

She scoffed.

Finally, I met her glare. She raised her eyebrows, disbelief on her face. "Now, we can play nice, or you can keep it up and things'll get pretty damn ugly pretty damn fast, that I can guarantee," I finished in what was the most American I had ever sounded.

Without waiting for a response, I guided my broom downward, my feet landing gracefully on the solid ground as Edward dismissed us for the day. Oliver began to approach me, but I was quick to start off in the opposite direction. Toni came up beside me.

"You're my hero, ma'am, and I'd like to shake your hand," she said, a smile on her lips. I laughed, giving her hand a firm squeeze as we joined Lara at the end of the pitch before disappearing into the changing rooms.

* * *

The next day was much the same, however we broke off into smaller groups. Lara was training with Oliver and the reserve Keeper, Richard Jacks. Toni with the Beaters, a pair of twins who reminded me very much of Fred and George, only they weren't gingers. I worked with Edward March, the Chasers of the reserve team, Jamie Kirk, and, to my great displeasure, Keira Bray.

We were practicing throws and moving down the Quidditch pitch, but my mind couldn't help but wander to that _thing_ Oliver was so taken with.

She seemed so perfect, her ruddy dark hair perfectly tied in a ponytail that flew perfectly behind her. Her nails were perfectly manicured. Despite the cloudiness of the day, her skin was so damn radiant I was nearly blinded. And, to top everything off, she was far more fit than I could ever dream.

Even I knew I wasn't an unattractive person, but how could I compare to that?

No wonder Oliver was dating her.

But, regardless of how perfect she was physically, she had one of the most atrocious personalities I had ever had to put up with. Only the night before, we were all at the pub and I was trying to appear as lovey with Clancy as possible. However, she completely ruined the moment when she had "accidentally" spilled her lager down my shirt front. She made quite the show too, exclaiming a shrill, "Oh, how clumsy of me! It was a complete accident, I swear. Now I have to go get another beer." She even pouted for show up at Oliver.

How one _accidentally_ does that is beyond me, and she wouldn't have apologised had Oliver not insisted. And she did so begrudgingly, lying through her teeth, before Oliver ordered her another and guided her away from me and Clancy as I sat seething in my seat, anger bubbling inside of me.

Clancy, after a little persuasion (and by persuasion, I mean snogging that I'm sure the entirety of Puddlemere United saw), managed to take a hold of my arm and led me back to my room where he helped me remove the soiled clothing and, er, well... he _participated_ in a little crash course of the more _physical_ variety.

I was pulled from my pleasant reminiscing when the Quaffle collided quite violently with my nose, a loud crack reverberating in my head, and I scrambled to catch it before it plummeted to the ground. At the same time, I brought my sleeve to my nose and pulled it away only to see blood. A slew of curses rolled from my tongue as I held my nose with one hand and clutched the Quaffle angrily, glaring at Bray as she looked on with raised eyebrows.

Edward was soon beside me, prying my hand from my face. He let out a low whistle, before turning to look at Keira, the last one to handle the Quaffle. "Proud of yourself there, Bray? You broke her nose."

She shrugged, a smirk on her face.

"Here, I'll fix you up," Edward said gently, noticing the tears prickling my eyes. He motioned for me to follow him to the stands.

However, instead of doing that, I hurled the Quaffle at an unsuspecting Bray. She let out an _oomph! _as it hit her squarely in the chest, knocking the wind out of her.

I zoomed to the ground, quickly dismounted, and stormed off the pitch and in the general direction of Trenthide Downs. Sean called after me, threatening that if I didn't get my ass back on the broom, I'd be out of a job. He was lying, I knew, so I continued on my way and didn't stop until I got back to my room and was hunched over the sink.

I coughed up blood as it dripped from my nasal cavity to my throat. I gingerly began wiping what was on my face so I could better inspect the damage. I barely brushed my finger down the length of my nose, crying out as the pain felt like a dagger to my face.

"Merlin dammit, Rue, you're acting like a baby," I said through angry tears as I pressed a hand towel under my nose and went in search of my wand to repair the damage.

* * *

**So, I finally updated, and I'd like to apologize for the ridiculously long wait! I've been overwhelmed, but I promise to try to update more regularly. Anyway, as you know, J.K. Rowling created the great and wonderful Harry Potter Universe, that which you don't recognize from it is of my own creation. (Speaking of, how excited are we for Part 1?) Also, I've started a new ficlet, **_**The Course of Empire**_** which is a Barty Crouch Jr./OC; you should wander over there and check it out. As always, do me the great honor of leaving a ****review****! Yours.**


	9. Of Heartbreak and Warnings

I sat at the bar, burying my sorrows and anger of the day in a large glass of imported beer. Obviously, like any good German, I believed that beer could solve any problem. And it could, to a certain extent, at least until the one moment you've been dreading trudges up to your doorstep and knocks rather obnoxiously.

A lilting Scottish accent reached my ears, "Mind if I join you, Rue?"

I couldn't help but wince, "Actually, I-"

However, being the same stubborn bloke I had left him, Oliver pulled the chair out and slid into it effortlessly, and I couldn't help but to be ashamed of my struggle only ten minutes ago to climb into my own seat.

"Anything for you tonight, Wood?" the bartender asked as he dried a clean glass.

"I'll have what she's having," he said, gesturing towards me. The bartender quickly filled a glass and slid it in front of him before walking to the other end of the bar.

I bit my lip before taking a deep swig of my drink, noticing how my body physically tensed at his proximity.

"So, how are you?"

"Well, aside from a splitting headache and a slightly distorted nose thanks to _your_ girlfriend, I'm bloody fantastic."

I saw him roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye.

"You're overreacting, your nose looks just the same as it always has."

"Oh, oh yeah? You see this?" I pointed to the new slight curve of my nose. "Now I look like a fucking Italian."

I lowered my voice. "'Your nose looks just the same,'" I mocked before snorting into my glass as I took another drink.

"If you had been paying attention instead of making eyes at your new boyfriend-"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" I interrupted. "You're saying this is my fault, not Bray's for maliciously attacking me?"

"That's not what I said,-"

"Of course you're on _her_ side," I said, finally turning to him. "I'm so overwhelmingly happy that you two found each other. Vampire Bitch and Macduff, the perfect couple," I spat.

I took in his hurt expression for a minute before knocking back the rest of my drink and motioning for a refill.

Oliver still sat beside me.

"I thought I made it quite clear that I want you to get away from me, Wood," I said venomously.

"Rue, please-"

"What?" I said, fully turning to him. "What could you possibly have to say to me, hmm?"

He raised his eyebrows and rubbed his scruffy cheek with his palm, clearly exasperated with me.

"Are you happy? That's all I want to know."

"Far happier with Clancy than I ever was with you," I lied through gritted teeth.

"Really? Because it seems more like a show than a relationship," he trailed off, his chocolate brown eyes searching mine.

I felt my heart flutter before I straightened and went on the defensive, "Yeah, and what would _you_ know about my relationship with Clancy?"

He opened his mouth to respond when Keira suddenly threw her arms around his neck. "Oliver, I've been looking all over for you," she gushed shrilly, momentarily reminding me of a banshee. Her eyes met mine. "Oh, I didn't know you spent your time talking to inferiors when I wasn't around," she said haughtily, fixing me with a glare.

"Really?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "That's the best you've got? I'm your '_inferior_'?" I slid from my seat and took my full glass with me. "You really picked out a keeper there, mate," I said to Oliver before slinking off to join Clancy who sat with Sean and Robbie at a nearby table.

Clancy's eyes met mine, a look I couldn't quite place on his face. I wondered if he'd heard my exchange with Oliver, and if he could tell I was lying. I glanced over my shoulder at Lara and Toni who had obviously been eavesdropping on the whole ordeal. Lara frowned and Toni shrugged sympathetically.

I sighed, quickly downing my beer and eager to ease my troubles. I pulled Clancy towards me, taking one last glance at Oliver, before kissing him with all the passion I could muster.

* * *

The following morning I rolled out of bed and pulled on my training robes, an odd, anxious feeling having settled in the pit of my stomach sometime in the night.

I joined Lara and Toni downstairs. Sean waved us out the door, saying Robbie was already on the pitch waiting for us with the team. Clancy was nowhere to be found, and when I asked Sean about him, he merely shrugged.

"I hope he's alright," I said, my voice sounding distant even to me.

Lara gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "I'm sure he's just tired."

Practice was just like the previous day, only we practiced slightly more advanced moves over and over again. Still, nothing was new to me since I had been a Chaser at Hogwarts and had been nearly as fanatical about the different techniques as Oliver. Lara had a few, near-plummeting-to-her-death scares as she tried more experimental blocking techniques at the goalposts, and Toni looked happier than I'd ever seen her as she whacked away at the Bludgers to her heart's content.

Keira seemed to be keeping her distance that day, probably under Edward's orders judging by the warning looks he gave her if she got too close to me. However, that didn't stop her from glaring or throwing out a rude comment every now and then.

"Having difficulty seeing beyond that new nose of yours, Von Straussburg?" she called as I threw the Quaffle at the centre goalpost that Edward rushed to block at the last second. Sweet Merlin, she reminded me of that bloody Malfoy kid.

I turned around to glare at her. "At least I have a decent nose, prick," I called.

I could see her roll her eyes, "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I shrugged nonchalantly as I took in her slightly turned-up button nose, "just that I'd rather have my nose than that of a Vampire Pig."

She let out an exasperated cry and rushed her broom forward as if to have a go at me, but I ducked out of the way and flew towards the safety of Edward.

"Bray, that's enough, I think you should take a break," he said warily, glancing between us.

"Fuck you," she mouthed at me as she flew away, causing quite the scene as she joined Oliver at the other end of the pitch.

* * *

Lara, Toni and I sat in the chairs arranged in front of the fireplace in the Trenthide Downs lobby. We were all enjoying tea when the sound of a clearing throat interrupted our mindless chatter.

I turned around in my chair to find a disheveled Clancy standing awkwardly looking between us. I set down my tea and stood to join him.

"Yes, dear?" I asked, concerned about his odd behavior today. He hadn't turned up on the pitch, and when I had knocked on his door after practice he said he was busy with something.

"Rue," he gently pulled me aside. I looked up at him expectantly. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Lara and Toni glanced in our direction.

"Privately," Clancy added.

"Sure," I said and allowed him to lead the way upstairs to his room.

He shut the door softly behind him. His shoulders drooped as he sighed and ran a hand through his dark curls.

I reached out and gently put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged me off before he turned to me.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said softly, avoiding my gaze. "Do you, uh, still love him?"

I rolled my eyes, "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"Do you love him?" he asked more forcefully.

"Clancy, I don't-"

"Wood. You still love him," he said with a finality, not even bothering to hear my response.

"And what, exactly, has led you to this conclusion, then?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

"We only make out if he's around with Keira, and don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at him," he said lowly, glaring at me. So he had figured it out last night at the pub, that's what the look was.

"What the bloody hell are you on about, 'the way I look at him'?" I hissed, taking a step towards him.

He fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt, "It's the way I wish you'd look at me."

"You've got to be joking," I mumbled.

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say at precisely the wrong time. "_Me_? Don't you _dare_ try to turn this around on me, Rue. This little scheme is entirely you're own doing and, unfortunately, I allowed myself to be pulled into it." He used his finger to accent his words.

Affronted, I stared at him. What else was I supposed to do?

"I allowed myself to be dragged into this because I believed that maybe there was hope for us, that maybe you could finally love me. I never knew you to be a manipulative, cold-hearted person, and yet it seems that is what you truly are."

Flabbergasted, I looked blankly into his eyes, my heart pounding against my chest.

"As a _friend_, I suggest you rethink how much you value your relationships and if it's truly worth destroying those to hurt someone else."

"Clancy," I started, reaching out for him. I had finally collected myself. "I care about you, so much," I managed hoarsely.

He shook his head. "Then you've got to choose."

"What?"

"You can either take me as I am or you can waste your time torturing Wood so that he'll change his mind."

"You can't possibly-" I started, before it registered what precisely he'd said. "Wait, no, stop. I'm not trying to change Wood's mind at all! I just wanted to," I trailed off, my eyes meeting Clancy's.

"Wanted to what?"

I bit my lip, "To, er, show him that I'm well enough off without him."

"So you decided to take advantage of me to do that?"

"Not at all, Clancy," I began, desperately raking my mind for a proper response that wouldn't get me into more trouble. "I love-"

The look he fixed me with would have been enough to quiet a bunch of Slytherins. Then, he brushed past me and began wrenching open the drawers and throwing his clothing into a suitcase that lay open on top of his bed. I'd just noticed it and deduced that he must have been thinking about this confrontation all day.

I caught his sleeve and tugged on it. He glanced down at me. "Please don't do this," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "Don't leave me."

He sighed, waving his wand so that his packing continued before he turned to me and placed his hands over my shoulders.

"Rue, you'll get through this. I know you, for better or worse, and you will figure some way to right things with your ex. You don't need me. And, to be honest, things'll be better if I get away from here."

His eyes drifted to the ring on my right hand, and I decided in that moment to return it to him. "Take this," I said, placing the golden band in his palm.

His mouth twitched in what I suppose was a smile for a fraction of a second.

I awkwardly slipped my hands into my trouser pockets and looked at the ground. "So, are we still mates or is everything over?"

I heard the click of the latches on his suitcase, "We can still be friends, and I'll still take care of Sam while you're away." He shrunk it down and slipped it in his back pocket, "But, I think for the sake of preserving that friendship, you should wait until _I_ contact you."

I nodded slowly, my eyes on his feet as he turned from me and went to the door. I looked after him when he stopped suddenly and halfway turned toward me.

"You know," he began, a forlorn look on his face, "I really do hate that I love you so much. I see now that I never could compare to him."

I wanted to say something else, but he had already left the room. I physically felt my heart breaking.

* * *

The next two days at practice were considerably worse than previous days. I found my anger snapping out and clawing at anyone who even dared look at me the wrong way, and I honestly believed I had cause more damage to members of Puddlemere United singlehandedly than they had received in all of the last year's games combined.

Oliver, in particular, was a recipient of my scathing remarks whenever he tried to approach me with sympathy in his eyes. I was only more infuriated whenever I saw Keira and how she flung herself at Oliver.

That, and she was now going out of her way to provoke me, making snide remarks whenever she graced me with her presence.

"Did you finally scare that Yank off with your atrocious personality and abnormally large nose?"

"Poor thing, you look as desperate as a single girl sitting alone at the bar. Oh, wait, you are, aren't you?"

"So, was it your lack of Quidditch skill or your lack of skill in bed that sent the Yank packing?"

And on and on.

I was often too flustered or annoyed to bother responding, so I allowed my animosity towards Bray to continue growing as the comments became more bold and degrading.

Little did that girl know, she was in for a world of hurt.

* * *

_Oliver's Point of View_

"Keira," I said, gently pulling my girlfriend aside as we prepared to go on the pitch for the fifth day of training with Rue and her friends.

"Yes, darling," she said sweetly, smiling up at me while she brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"Would you mind letting Rue alone today?"

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not really doing anything."

I gave her a pointed look, "Those comments you've been making to her the past few days? You've got to stop, I'm warning you."

"Oh, she's not going to do anything. And I can handle myself," she smiled. "I'm a big girl."

"No, Keira, listen, you're only making yourself look bad, and things are going to get nasty if you keep-"

"Oliver, why are you defending her? She _left_ you, and she's a rotten person to her very core. You know what she did to Clancy, we all do. She used him. Now, I'm going to do as I please, and if you have a problem with that, I suggest you get over it quickly, or we'll be having our own problems."

"You don't know her like I do," I sighed as she stormed off.

* * *

**Boom, two chapters in one day! Expect another chapter or two by the end of the week, but not before the premiere of Part 1! J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, I own what you don't recognize. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review! Yours.**


	10. Of Dreams and Bar Fights

The afternoon sun warmed my face until a figure cast a shadow over me as they lay down. Clancy gently brushed a stray lock of hair from my face before kissing me. After a time, he pulled away. I reached up, smiling, and traced his lips. His grey eyes searched mine, his brows furrowed.

"Clancy?" I breathed.

"I loved you, Rue," he said huskily, beginning to pull away.

"Come back to me," I whispered, my fingers curling around the back of his neck. "Come back to me." Tears streamed down my face.

Before my eyes he morphed from the dark haired, fair-skinned gentleman I knew to none other than Oliver Wood.

"I'm right here, Rue," he murmured, his accent soft. He brushed the tears from my cheeks. "I've always been right here."

"No you haven't," I choked out. "You, you stopped writing me and then...then you just-"

He pressed his forehead to mine and pulled me close. "Rue," he breathed before pressing his lips to my cheek, my nose, and finally my lips.

"Rue, I love-"

I suddenly sat up in bed, my heart pounding and the bedsheets pooling in my lap. I quickly wiped at my cheeks, uncertain if I had actually cried.

"It was just a dream," I whispered. "Just a dream." It seemed so real, well, except for Clancy changing into Wood, unless there was some sort of Polyjuice Potion involved.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair as I glanced at the clock. It was only five in the morning. I technically didn't have to be up until seven or eight, but I knew I wouldn't be getting any more sleep. I rolled out of bed and quickly pulled on a jumper and a pair of jeans before trudging down to the dining room adjacent to the lobby.

No one was around save for a few house elves who regarded me curiously before approaching me.

"Can we get the miss anything?"

"I'll have some tea," I said simply. The one who had spoken shooed the other two away before disapparating with a pop.

I was alone for an hour before Robbie strolled in. "Morning," he said brightly, pulling out the chair across from me and taking a seat.

"Sleep well?"

I shrugged before taking a sip from my cup.

He smiled gently, "If you wanted to take a personal leave, I'm sure Sean would understand."

I scoffed, "I'm not taking a '_personal leave_', that'd mean she won."

"Who?" Robbie asked, after ordering a cup of coffee. After a moment, a look of realisation appeared on his features. "Ah, Keira Bray, you mean?"

"Yeah, her," I grumbled.

"It doesn't have to be about winning or losing, you know."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Or, maybe it does," he laughed.

"Robbie, can I ask you something?"

He nodded.

"What would you have done? If you were in my situation, I mean," I quickly added.

He shrugged, "Well, if I had you're temper, I'd have done the very same thing. Mind I don't know the particulars of your past relationship with Wood, but, yeah, if it's really as bad as I suspect," he trailed off.

I sighed, about to say something else when Toni and Lara entered the room, chatting animatedly. It was odd, considering neither of them, Lara in particular, were morning people.

"Good morning," Lara greeted chirpily.

Toni nodded her head in acknowledgement.

I looked between the two of them. "What's going on?"

"Whaddya mean?" Toni asked.

"Why are you both so happy at," I glanced at my watch, "seven in the morning?"

"Sean's feeling a bit under the weather," Lara announced. "_And_, today is team bonding, _meaning_ minimal practice."

I grunted in response. Toni clapped me on the shoulder, "It's gonna be a good day!"

* * *

Edward had just given us our team assignments for the final match. I would be playing on the Reserve team with Toni as a beater. The one she was replacing had to return to his wife for the delivery of the first child. Toni and Lara thought it was the cutest thing in the world, but I couldn't help rolling my eyes.

I could feel Bray's glare in the back of my head, and I wondered if she ever concentrated her energy and hatred elsewhere.

That train of thought was quickly stopped, though, when practice started. We had ventured from the pitch, the disadvantage of being on the reserve team, and were to practice in the fields. Lara stuck her tongue out at us as we passed, quite pleased that she didn't have to leave the relative cleanliness of the pitch for the "wild."

We practiced for twice as long as the other team, and I, personally, put every ounce of my being into improving my own skills and focusing on the plays, rather than everything else that was going on. Toni seemed to follow suit, completely content as a beater. I would be sure to tease her about her enthusiasm later.

Practice ended, and, instead of scattering to go about our daily lives until dinner at the pub later, Richard suggested we go to Piddletrenthide proper. I made a mad dash to the changing rooms, wanting to beat my teammates there and was startled to find Keira pressing herself against the Puddlemere United seeker, Rolfe Tarleton, in a rather intimate way. One of his hands was tangled in her hair and the other was up her shirt. They obviously hadn't realised they had company and so I made a show of slamming my locker shut as I pulled out my clothing. They quickly separated, Rolfe sauntering away, looking quite full of himself, and Bray trying to murder me with her eyes.

"You know, if you keep squinting like that, they'll get stuck. Wouldn't want you to be an uglier vampire than you already are," I said nonchalantly. She opened her mouth to retort, but the rest of the team entered and Toni was at my side in an instant. Bray could do nothing but march off in a huff. "What's gotten into her?" Toni asked. I shrugged and tried to push the incident from my mind, though I wondered if Oliver was aware that his dearest girlfriend was cheating on him.

The afternoon hours passed quickly. Toni and I spent most of our time in a dusty old book shop in muggle Piddletrenthide, reading romantic poems dramatically to one another. Suddenly, she had a Baudelaire book in her hands and, to my horror, she flipped open to the one poem I hated above all others.

"The nightly heavens're not more beautiful than you, beloved-"

"We should go," I said, tugging the small book from her hands and snapping it shut. I turned and hurried out of the store, leaving a confused Toni behind me.

* * *

I shrugged off my coat and barely managed a smile as I hung it on the back of a chair next to Lara. The table the pub had set up for us seemed to run the length of the establishment.

"Sit yerself on down there, Rue!" Toni said, holding up her glass. It was clear she was already beating me at our usual consumption contest, having forgotten my awkward exit from the book store earlier.

"I'm just going to go get a few so I can catch up, yeah?" I gestured towards the bar.

"Yes, ma'am!" she saluted me with her glass before knocking back a swig.

I chortled, before leaning down next to Lara's ear, "Can I grab you anything, or are you good?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she said smiling before returning her attention to some story Richard was recounting.

I returned to the table with three glasses of beer and quickly started in on them after placing my order. We soon became that rowdy group everyone loved to hate while trying to enjoy a nice dinner, and, although slightly inebriated, I did note the looks a few couples threw our way. I glanced around the table, swirling the silver ring on my finger. From where I sat I couldn't see Oliver, and Sean was at the head of the table sniffling and watery-eyed from the cold he was apparently suffering through.

As soon as our dinner plates were cleared, the tables that had been pushed together were separated by the staff and we made our way to the bar. Toni hung off of me, laughing hysterically at something.

"Toni," I slurred, struggling to keep my arm around her waist, "I admit defeat. You've won this match!"

"And that's how we do it down south," she declared, setting an empty glass on the counter. She waved at the bartender, "Celebratory shots!"

I rolled my eyes, sliding my arm from her and rolling my shoulder once. Lara glanced over at us and mouthed, "Is she really going to drink more?" while pointing at Toni. I shrugged as four shot glasses were placed between us and filled with whiskey. "Thank ya kindly," Toni said before turning to me with a raised glass, "What're we drinking to, darlin'?"

I laughed, "Whatever the hell it is single women drink to."

"To whatever the hell single women drink to!" Toni cried loudly before tipping hers back.

I was about to down my own when someone suddenly pushed into me, forcing the shot to hit my shirtfront rather than the back of my throat. I turned slowly to see who it was, already expecting the porcelain-skinned, dark-haired woman I found myself looking at.

"Excuse you," I said.

She clicked her tongue, tilting her head to the side. "I'd say that's a pity, but you don't have anyone to impress, do you? Not with that Yank gone. He smartened up real quick," she sneered.

"Well, at least I didn't have to run to others to get the pleasure I so desired," I said darkly. I wondered where Oliver was for a moment, but the thought was interrupted when she grabbed the neck of my jumper and pulled me to her.

"Hey, what're you-" Toni started.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but you'd do better to keep your bloody mouth shut," she said through gritted teeth.

"One really shouldn't tell lies, Bray. But, then again, I suppose not all of us are of moral and upstanding stock. There have to be some borne of whores and libertines in order to carry on the tradition," I declared venomously, not particularly caring who heard.

I wasn't expecting Bray to have the strength to physically harm me, but it seemed she did as I was thrown against the counter, my forehead catching its sharp edge. I let out a cry of pain before pushing myself up, my fingers curling around the nearest object, a full glass of beer. I turned and hurled it at her, but she ducked out of the way and it hit the wall behind her. The foamy beer slid down the wall.

"Rue!" I heard Lara's shrill cry from somewhere behind me.

I ignored her as I lurched forward, hurling a well-placed punch at Bray's cheekbone before she even registered what was happening. She stumbled backwards, palm on her cheek. It seemed the ring I wore had cut her skin, and, shocked, she pulled her hand away to find blood there. I smirked, admiring my handiwork, but the triumph quickly faded when she flew at me, the back of her hand connecting with my face.

Dumbstruck, I held my cheek before I quickly recovered, reaching for my wand in my back pocket.

"You insolent slut," I roared, rushing at her again. I grabbed her shirtfront and pushed her against the wet, sticky wall, the tip of my wand digging into her throat.

My heart was pounding and my breath was heavy as she whimpered. Several pairs of hands pulled me backwards. Another pair wrenched my wand from my hand. Someone led me out the front door which slammed behind me. I realized how cold it was without my coat

"Merlin dammit, Rüdiger von Straussburg," Sean bellowed as he rounded on me. My head was still spinning; everything had happened so fast. "What the _hell_ were you thinking, starting a bar fight? If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to permanently remove you from this show! I can't have a lawsuit on my hands simply because you can't control your temper!" He continued on, but none of it registered.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he finally demanded.

I looked up at him in the dim lighting, opening and closing my mouth a few times, nothing coming to me.

He sniffed, rubbing his handkerchief under his nose as he shook his head. "Go back to your room. I don't want to see you until the game tomorrow. Someone will bring you your things."

With that, Sean went back inside the pub, leaving me to trudge back to my room through the freshly fallen snow.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Please leave me a **_**review**_**, that would be most kind of you. So, Part 1 was amazing. So many good things. I can't wait for Part 2 when Mr Wood has a cameo... As always, Jo Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, and I own that which you don't recognize from it. Special surprise to whoever can spot the Part 1 line and also my favorite line from a recent **_**Wuthering Heights **_**adaptation. Chapter 11 will be posted soon! Yours.**


	11. Of Spells and Curses

I stood in the changing rooms at eight the following morning. I had been up early again, this time from a splitting headache which I assumed was due to my run-in with the bar the previous night. I tugged a Puddlemere jumper over my head before pulling the set of robes from their hanger and turning to set them on the bench behind me.

I was startled to see Oliver standing there instead.

He studied me for a moment before holding out my folded coat and my wand, "Here."

"Er, thanks," I said, awkwardly taking them. I spun around quickly to hang my coat and pulled my robes on, storing my wand in an inside pocket.

I tried to busy myself when I felt his hand on my arm, stopping me. I sighed and allowed him to turn me to face him again.

"Why?" he demanded gruffly.

"She started it-"

The look on his face silenced me.

"What would compel you to behave like that? You're mad!"

"Oliver, she-"

"No, Rue, I expected better from you," he said finally.

We were silent for a long time. I figured Oliver wasn't sure what more to say, and I was less than willing to say what I knew I should.

I sighed, giving in. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my conscience getting the better of me. I turned my attention to my feet.

His fingers gently slid under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He turned my face and looked at the dark bruise and the cut above my temple. I couldn't keep my eyes from sliding downwards to his lips as he pulled out his wand and gently pressed it along the damaged skin, murmuring a soft healing spell that tingled.

He returned his wand to his pocket, "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," I breathed, raising my eyes to his again.

I'm not sure how much time passed between us as we simply stared at each other, but it seemed to drag on forever. His fingertips brushed against my cheek and slid under my chin again, tilting my face upwards. I looked up at him expectantly for a moment before his lips pressed gently against my forehead. The hair on his chin tickled.

I closed my eyes, letting out a breath I hadn't realised I had been holding as he slowly pulled away from me. "Oliver, she's cheat-," I began, but found I couldn't finish my sentence as he dipped his head. I could feel his breath on my lips as he moved closer to me. I thought my heart was going to leap from my chest as his nose brushed against mine. He was so close, I had only to lean forward a little more to meet him...

"Oliver?" a tight voice rang out. Both our eyes flew open and he backed away before turning to face his girlfriend. "What's going on here?" she demanded.

Saying nothing, I shut my locker and grabbed my broom before brushing past her and heading out to the pitch for a warm-up.

* * *

The game was fast-paced, Robbie often having to duck out of the way before snapping a photograph. Bray was brutal, taking any opportunity to knock into me. It seemed she had also instructed the beaters to direct all Bludgers at me, and I felt I spent more time trying not to get injured than I did scoring goals. I figured she was nursing a sore ego, what with the physical wounds from our scuffle last night and the humiliation of potentially losing to someone who hadn't played Quidditch since graduating.

I hurled the Quaffle past Lara for the tenth time, putting 80 points between the two teams. "Damn, Rue!" she said, laughing. Lara never had been particularly competitive. I winked at her before turning to fly down the pitch for the next play.

The game continued for another twenty or so minutes. I spent most of that time dodging Bludgers and passing the Quaffle. To be completely honest, the reserve team was kicking some serious arse, and even Sean, from his place in the stands next to other team members who had been benched for the event, was impressed.

Toni, however, hit a Bludger the wrong way just as I made to throw another goal and I was forced to duck out of the way, the Quaffle, instead of going through the post, landing squarely in Lara's arms. I backed away, looking up at Toni who shot me an apologetic look and shrugged.

Bray had the Quaffle and was heading towards our posts. I came up from beneath her, punching the ball from her grasp and speeding down to the opposite end of the pitch. Bray let out a cry of anger behind me. I threw the Quaffle to Max, who caught it and continued toward the goalposts. I was about to follow when a Bludger hurtled toward me, snapping the front of my broom. I watched it fall to the ground. I turned to see Bray thrusting a bat back into one of the twins' hands.

"Bloody hell!" I cried, reaching into my pocket to pull out my wand. She was bleeding mad.

Another Bludger came at me, but I threw it off course with a spell and urged my broken broom forward, realising it would be best to put distance between myself and that bitch.

I glanced around and saw that both Seekers were in hot pursuit of the Snitch.

"Rue!" Toni yelled from above me. I turned to see that damn Bludger coming at me again. I dropped down as it whizzed over me. I shifted in my seat only to be knocked from it as the little bugger came back around. I grabbed onto the broom at the last moment, dangling in the air. I panicked, reaching up with my other hand as my mind flashed back to that cursed Bludger incident with Harry Potter in my sixth year.

"Von Straussburg," a sharp voice called from somewhere above me. I looked up, searching the skies for Bray as I desperately tried to avoid the Bludger that continued to charge at me.

"Bray," Edward shouted from somewhere. "Drop your wand!"

That didn't stop her, as an Unforgiveable Curse flew from her lips and an excruciating pain I had never experienced took hold of my body. I screamed as it felt like the very core of my being was being torn apart. My grip on the broom loosened as the torture endured, my fingers finally slipping from it entirely as I plummeted.

I hit the ground with a loud thud, my body still shaking from the Cruciatus Curse it had endured. So many feet were around me and so many voices were calling to me, others yelling at Bray who I could only pray was bound, wandless, and far away from me.

"We need to get her to St. Mungo's," Sean said, sounding panicked.

"How?" Edward asked hesitantly.

"You could floo from the Downs."

"She shouldn't move," Robbie said.

"Then what, side-along apparition?"

"She's not strong enough for that!"

"We can't just leave her here, she needs to be treated."

"Rue, can you hear me?" Lara whispered, gently placing her hand on my forehead.

I moaned in response, trying to roll away from her.

"C'mon, we've got to get her up," someone said as they pulled me to my feet. Blood rushed to my head and I swooned. My last thought was how I hoped someone would catch me before the world went black.

**

* * *

So there's chapter 11! Sorry it's significantly shorter than the previous one. Next chapter should be up in the very near future and, like this one, it'll be a bit shorter. J.K. Rowling owns that which you recognize from the series. Side note, I feel like this site is mocking me with its ads for Colonial Williamsburg. It's like it knows how much I love early American history... My life is such a joke. Hope you find it in your heart to **_**review**_**! Yours.**


	12. Of Dark Brown Eyes and Debacles

The world was fuzzy as I finally came to. Everything, my entire body, was throbbing. I blinked a few times as I tried to push myself up onto my elbows, but hands gently held me down.

Whoever was holding me down laughed softly. "You really shouldn't strain yourself," Oliver murmured softly.

When I looked up at him, brows furrowed, he smiled gently. "Don't look so confused," he said, "just lay back."

I did as instructed, my mind racing. Why was he here? Why was Oliver sodding Wood the first person I saw when I bloody woke up? What sick twist of fate was this?

His hand moved to rest near my head on the pillow as he stood over me. "Rue, I," he began, but closed his mouth. He seemed to be thinking over his words. "I wanted to apologise," he began slowly.

I raised my eyebrows, still groggy.

"For everything," he breathed as his other hand brushed my fringe to the side of my face. "I was wrong."

His dark brown eyes searched mine. As ridiculously cheesy as it may sound, I felt as though the ice that encased my heart was being warmed and melted away by the golden sun. Then I realised how gag-worthy that feeling was.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then an alert and very disheveled Sean barreled into the room, pushing Oliver out of the way.

"Rue, you gave us quite the scare!" Sean cried. "Your parents should be here soon."

I rolled my eyes. "Sean, I'm not a five year old," I said, as I tried to sit up. Oliver moved to hold me down again, but he stopped when Edward put a hand on his arm. "Mate, the team needs to have a little chat."

Edward turned to me as I settled back against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" he asked gently.

"Er, been better," I said with a shrug that immediately hurt. I hid my pain, though, with a quick wince. I'd rather not let on how I really felt physically. I tried to ignore the concerned look on Oliver's face.

Edward gave me a weak smile, "I'm really sorry about all this, and I hope you recover quickly. There will be repercussions for Bray, if that makes you feel any better."

The corners of my mouth lifted in a tight smile and Edward muttered a quick good-bye before he pulled Oliver out of the room.

Sean turned to me, "How do you really feel?"

"Like complete rubbish."

He sighed, running a hand through his pepper hair.

"Sean," I started slowly as I shifted underneath the bedsheets.

"Yeah?"

"This is the messiest I've ever seen your hair, and it doesn't even look half bad," I said sarcastically, though I had genuinely meant it.

He started to laugh before suddenly stopping, as if he realised laughing at such a time was taboo.

"Well, as far as your employment after this," he gestured to my general form as he searched for a word, "_debacle_, you're on two weeks paid leave and you will not be allowed to work in that time frame."

I bolted upright, my head spinning and a searing pain hitting my back, "What? No, you can't, but what about the Tudor research? I was really-"

"You can do your own research in the comfort of your own home, preferably in your _own _bed."

"This, this is-"

At that moment, my mother burst into the room. "_Ach_, _mein Leibling_!" she cried as she rushed to my bedside. My father followed closely behind her, trying to look nonchalant, but I could see the worry in his eyes. He shook hands with Sean as my mother fawned over me.

"I was just telling Rue that she is on paid leave for the next two weeks so she fully recovers," Sean said. "I'm very sorry this happened."

My father nodded, before turning to me. "Friedrich said you could stay at The Moorings because, ah," he gestured towards Mum as she hugged me and ran her hands over my face.

I flailed, trying to push her hands away, "Mum, Mum, _Mum_, I'm fine. Stop! You touching me is more painful than anything."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry," she gushed, tears in her eyes. "My poor baby, how could this have happened?" she cried before rounding on Sean.

"How could you endanger my daughter like this? Putting her in a situation where an obvious psychopath can take advantage of her vulnerability? She hasn't played Quidditch for _years_!"

Mum continued berating Sean as he shrunk back and tried to interject. Dad finally approached me, "You'll have to stay one more night, the healers want to keep an eye on you."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

"Do you want to press charges against this Bray woman?"

I sighed, "I'd rather just see what happens, but if you wouldn't mind starting up a file or something," I trailed off.

My father nodded, ever the professional. He gently squeezed my shoulder. "I'm going to get Mum out of here, but we'll be back in the morning. Klaus might stop by 'round dinnertime tomorrow."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I scowled as he pulled away, giving me a cheeky wink before he turned around.

"Elisabeth, c'mon, I think Sean's had enough for one day," my father said as he snaked his arm around Mum's waist and pulled her from the room.

* * *

A different dream, a twisted memory, the same golden Mirror of Erised.

Fifth year Rue, pulling that white sheet away in an overly-grandiose fashion. I could feel Oliver standing behind me, but that didn't matter as I was awe-struck by the reflection before me. Always the same disbelief and excitement.

There I was, the happiest I had ever seen myself. Nothing seemed particularly extraordinary, but I was beaming about something, or at someone as strong arms wrapped around me and pulled an older me to the side of the frame, exposing the crashing waves of the sea in the background. There was a beautiful ring on my left hand that could probably rival some of the Queen's jewels. Fifth year me was about to turn her attention to the man, but-

My eyes flew open, my heart pounding. No, that hadn't been right. But, then again, I _had_ seen myself incandescently happy and with someone I loved when I had looked into the mirror for the first time seven years ago. I bit my lip, thinking it was at least something to that effect.

I shifted, trying to get comfortable again. I had visited the mirror shortly before graduation when I was torn between going to America with my uncle or trying to find work in the Ministry with my father's help. My reflection didn't show me sitting at a desk, but rather I was out in the field as my uncle had so spoiled me. And that Rue in the reflection was not at all concerned about the many friends and family she would be leaving. She was selfish and young and saw the world as her oyster. Nothing was going to stop her.

That's why I made the decision to leave. As much as I loved Oliver, I knew that I could only be truly happy if I left him, and so I did.

And look where I ended up.

In Saint Mungo's. A victim of a particularly brutal Cruciatus Curse. Unable to work for the next two weeks due to aforementioned maltreatment. All because of Oliver Wood's stupid, jealous, cheating whore of a girlfriend.

And that's when my blood began to boil.

I wanted to ruin Keira Bray.

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness of this chapter and the one before it. I didn't want to post them as one whole chapter, because then it would've been too long for my liking. But here we are! Hope you enjoyed. As you know, J.K. Rowling owns the HP Universe, I own that which you don't recognize from it. It'd be quite lovely if you were kind enough to leave me a **_**review**_**! Yours.**

**PS: I was thinking of doing a small collection of canon/OC oneshots in the spirit of the holiday season. If you have any requests for canon characters, please leave me one in your review!**


	13. Of Prisons and Dramatic Readings

Thanks to my uncle's kindness and pity, I spent my days on leave in The Moorings. My mum stopped by more often than I would have liked, but it was usually just to bring me stew and bread, as she deemed it hazardous to my health to suffer through my own cooking. I shifted in the window seat, buried in several blankets, as I looked out the window at the dreary landscape.

Edward had stopped by two days after I left St. Mungo's, asking if there was anything I could do and, I suspected, making sure I wasn't going to press charges against the team. I assured him I had no desire to, but Bray was an entirely different story. I informed him that my father was gathering all of the information, and I knew that, at the very least, Bray wouldn't be back on a Quidditch pitch for a decade.

Edward informed me that she would be indefinitely suspended from the team, until the case decided her fate. During that time, she would not be participating in any games, nor would she be allowed to practice with the team.

Sean brought me a Get Well basket of fruit not long after Edward's departure. He said that Magick Studios was going to join me in pressing charges so that my name would, for the most part, be hidden. Needless to say, I chucked most of the fruit out the window at unsuspecting neighbour children as they trespassed on my uncle's property.

My father and his partners were handling the preparation for the case, though my father would not be the one to prosecute, seeing as he has an obvious conflict of interest, what with the victim being his only daughter and all. But he was guiding Randolph Mitchell in his preparation of the case. Clearly, the ethics of it all was not my father's greatest concern.

For the time, that was satisfactory. There wasn't much more I could do, not while I was essentially being held prisoner in Dover. As much as I wanted to strangle Bray with my own two hands, my father, Mr Mitchell, Sean and Edward were doing all they could. Bray was, essentially, ruined. Or at least on the right track to be.

There was a pop and I turned to see my mother, a sack of groceries in her hand and post curled under her arm. She sighed as she looked around, "This room is so messy, and you've barely been here a week!"

"Mum, you can't expect me to clean when I'm in such a weak state," I moaned dramatically.

She rolled her eyes, "_Ja_, well I'm going to start on the soup." She threw the newest copies of _Witch Weekly_ and _The Daily Prophet _at me before she turned and left the room, muttering to herself about getting me a house elf. Her heels clicked all the way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

As pots and pans began clanging, I picked up _The Prophet_, opening to the Quidditch page to look at the latest news. I scanned down the page until I saw a small snapshot of Bray, certainly looking a little worse for wear.

_Keira Bray, Chaser of Puddlemere United, has been issued an indefinite suspension at a preliminary hearing and placed under watch following an incident last week in which she used an Unforgiveable Curse. Edward March, captain of Puddlemere United, said Tuesday, "It is unfortunate that Bray chose to act in such a way, but she must accept the consequences. Puddlemere United wishes to convey sincerest apologies to [name withheld], and Bray's actions in no way reflect our team." Private wizarding law firm Mitchell, Richter & Von Straussburg is handling the proceedings. Bray declined to comment after the hearing and is being held in Azkaban until the trial begins at the end of January. _

Satisfied, I closed the paper and set it on top of the looming tower of books beside me. I was still deciding whether I should be present at the trial; that all depended on what Sean, Mr Mitchell, and my father decided behind closed doors. I was satisfied, though, knowing Bray would be spending her holiday imprisoned.

I turned to the _Witch Weekly_, leafing through it from back to front half-heartedly. I looked at some of the pictures. Apparently Viktor Krum had been named "Sexiest Quidditch Player" this year. Judging by his torso, particularly his abs, I would have to agree.

I was almost to the front cover when I spotted a picture of Oliver and Bray, but they had dramatically "torn" it apart. A jagged edge separated the two and, curious, I looked at the small blurb beside it.

_Puddlemere United couple Oliver Wood and Keira Bray split last week. An inside source tells us that their relationship had been shaky for weeks, and that Wood had recently been showing interest in an unnamed woman. At this time, we can only speculate and wait for Bray's trial at the end of January. In the mean time, ladies, Oliver Wood is single!_

I scoffed. For one thing, their inside source was lying. Their relationship seemed perfectly fine when we arrived a few weeks ago, _and_ Wood hadn't been showing interest in anyone but Bray, from what I could tell. Secondly, what in the bloody hell, _Witch Weekly_? The average reader has absolutely no chance of meeting or even dating Oliver, for that matter. Completely ridiculous. Why women read such rubbish was beyond me.

I tossed it aside and stood.

It didn't matter to me that he was single.

Not one bit.

* * *

I unceremoniously plopped down into a chair at the dining table as Mum put some liquid concoction before me. I tucked in, ignoring the odd taste.

"So, I saw that Oliver broke up with that Bray girl," my mum said casually as she sat down across from me.

"Yeah, I s'pose he did."

"I think he still cares about you, _Schatz_-"

I set down my spoon, "Look, Mum, Oliver and I are over. We are separate entities. Besides, how could you possibly expect me to still love someone who was dating that bit-"

"Rüdiger!"

"Er, _wretch_ who nearly killed me?"

After a long moment, she sighed, "Rue, I just want you to be happy-"

"I _am_ happy," I insisted, picking up my spoon. "Never been happier."

She fixed me with a look, but I refused to meet her gaze. She had this way of looking into someone's eyes and knowing the truth whether the person wanted to admit it or not. I didn't need her telling me I was still madly in love with Oliver, despite everything with Clancy and what have you. Because I honestly didn't think I was.

"Moreover, he would've been a bloody fool to go on dating her. Not only is she a raving lunatic, but she was also cheating on him."

"And how do you know that?"

"I, er, accidentally walked in on her and the seeker once."

"Well then," my mother said with finality, indicating she had no desire to continue the conversation.

Our awkward lunch was over shortly thereafter and she was about to leave when her hand dove into her bag.

"Oh, how silly of me, I forgot to give this to you."

She quickly tossed two folded letters across the table to me before disapparating with a pop.

The first letter was from Clancy, informing me that Sam Adams was not dead and asking if he should just let him fly to me. He had "heard through the grapevine" that I had been injured and he wished me a speedy recovery. He went on saying how it's good that we, or, well, _he_ finally cleared things up and that things were much better this way. He was ready to move on, or some rubbish like that. I pulled out a small bit of parchment and scribbled a one sentence reply: _I'll be alright, just send Sam along so he doesn't get too lonely_. Before folding it up and setting it aside for my father to collect later that evening.

The second small letter had no return address, and I hesitantly broke the wax seal and unfolded it. A part of me thought Bray figured out how to send post from Azkaban and this was a threat or poisoned with some invisible substance, but a quick glance at the bottom of the parchment proved me wrong.

_Dear Rue, _

_I hope you're recovering quickly._

_Again, I'm sorry. _

_None of this should have hap_

_It wasn't meant_

_I broke up with _

_I miss_

_I think of y_

_Just let me know you're okay._

_Oliver_

Raising an eyebrow, I reached for another piece of parchment, but was startled when my brother bellowed my name from somewhere behind me.

After he had picked me up and twirled me around, he returned me to my feet and started checking my vital signs.

"Er, Klaus, what're you doing?"

"Making sure I didn't just kill my favourite sister by showing her my love and affection when she is so physically weak."

"I'm you're _only_ sister."

"Yes, well-"

He was bubbling with excitement.

"Why're you all happy?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he turned to the table and picked up my letters.

"Can't tell you till Christmas. Oh, what's this?" he asked, waving Oliver's letter in my face. I reached out to grab it from him, but he held it high above his head, placed his right hand over his heart, and began to dramatically read it.

I could feel my cheeks burning.

"My _dearest_ Rue, I hope you're recovering quickly. Again, I'm _so_ sorry. None of this should have happened. It wasn't meant to be this way; we should have been together forever!"

"What're you doing?" I croaked, reaching up for the letter again.

"Reading between the lines, now hush," he swatted my hand away before continuing. "I broke up with Bray the Bitch because she's mad and can in no way compare to your unmatchable beauty, charm, or wit."

"It does _not_ say that!" I cried.

"I miss you like the sun misses the flower, like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," I moaned, covering my face with my hands.

"I think of you all the time. Come back to me and mend my broken heart. Always and forever yours, Oliver," he finished with a dreamy sigh, wiping an invisible tear from his eye.

"Klaus?"

"Yeah, sister mine?"

"Piss off."

* * *

**There it is! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I'm going to try to get a few more chapters out in the next week, though I can't make any promises since I'm in the midst of finals. Anyway, J.K. Rowling owns the HP universe. I'm going to try to get a start on that oneshot collection tomorrow. They're going to be short. A lovely prize goes to whoever can correctly spot the lines from the following films: **_**The Duchess**_**, **_**Atonement**_**, and **_**A Knight's Tale**_**. (Hint: they're all fairly close together.) As always, please do me the great honor of leaving a ****review****! Yours.**


	14. Of Apples and Proposals

I huffed, tossing the large book aside. I had done all the research I could to fill in the holes Lara and Toni had informed me of, and that was it. I simply could _not_ focus on Tudor England anymore.

My mind had been buzzing for the past week at the news Bray was toiling away in Azkaban until her trial, and that she was now just as single as I was. Every insult she ever hurled at me after Clancy had left came back to my mind and I couldn't help to twist them so they were directed at her. It was satisfying, to say the least, but it also made my blood boil.

If Oliver was going to break up with her, why didn't he do it sooner? Not that I wanted him to be single, or anything...

Further, if Klaus' "reading between the lines" was at all accurate, why did he let Bray get away with treating me like rubbish? And he only broke up with her _after_ she proved herself to be bloody mad? What was all that about then?

He probably only wanted to know that I was "okay" so his ruddy conscience would be clear. Not because he actually cared about me. There wasn't even a sliver of hope, not that I had been wanting one, that he still cared for me. What the hell was I thinking?

The more I thought about it, the more I hated myself. And then, the more I hated myself, the more I hated him for making me hate myself. And eventually, all that self-hatred morphed into hatred of him.

Needless to say, I had come to the conclusion that Oliver Wood was an intolerable git, and I couldn't believe I had wasted two years of my life dating him. I vowed I would never put myself through such torture again.

I collapsed back against the couch with a groan and stared blankly out the window. Or I at least tried to, however a thud in the kitchen distracted me.

Call it feminine curiosity or whatever, but I needed a diversion, and it seemed the mystery sound from the kitchen was perfect. So, I pulled myself from the couch and trudged through three rooms before walking through the kitchen's archway.

Sam Adams was perched on the back of a chair, his chest puffing rapidly. Another owl sat not far away, ruffling its feathers.

I finally looked down at the table.

Another day, another basket of fruit.

I grabbed a few apples before turning to go upstairs to settle myself in front of the large window in the study.

I pushed the window up and scanned the horizon for unsuspecting children. Sure, it was cloudy, windy, frigid, and snow had begun to fall, but you'd figure the little kiddos would be running around anyway. Especially with the snow.

More snow began to fall, creating a thin veil of white over the Dover landscape.

I sighed, about to give up, when I spotted a figure slowly walking down the path.

I grabbed a shiny red apple and chucked it as hard as I could. Sadly, it missed its intended target, who only stopped and looked at it in confusion for a moment.

Eh, it was worth a shot.

And that's when I realised it wasn't a child approaching the front door. It was a full-grown man.

I quickly stood, slamming the window shut and retreating back downstairs to the parlour.

Not long after there was a knock on the door.

I tried to ignore it. Maybe they thought the apple just fell from the sky.

More knocking.

Louder knocking.

I let out an exasperated cry, finally standing and pulling a thick blanket around my shoulders before sliding my socked feet along the wood floor.

I wrenched open the door, my voice oozing with annoyance, "Can I help-"

I stopped when it registered who stood in front of me.

"Uh," I said lamely.

"I had to see you," Oliver said desperately.

"Well, here I am," I said flippantly, stepping forward and pulling the door shut behind me, closing off any hope of an invitation inside.

He stared at the closed door momentarily before his dark brown eyes shot back to me, taking me in as I stood pathetically in flannel plaid jimjam bottoms tucked into woolen socks and an overly large pullover, all wrapped up in grey wool blanket.

"Is there any particular reason you had to see me?"

Wasn't I just being saucy and impertinent today.

He looked taken aback for a moment before recovering, "You got my letter?"

"Yes," I said slowly, pulling the blanket tighter around myself.

"Good," he said, nodding to himself.

"So, is that it then, or-" I started but he interrupted me.

"Rue, I was wrong. About everything. Keira was... she wasn't right for me, and I knew it all along, I just," he paused, frantically searching for the words, "_she_ just filled this void, in a way, but, but not really."

"Since you left, I didn't know what to do. I was alone and worried and jealous, but that didn't change the way I felt about you, how I have always felt... It shouldn't have ended the way it did."

He chuckled, an odd sound given the frenzy of words falling from his mouth, "It really shouldn't have ended at all."

I could do little more than stare at him as he continued, stepping towards me.

"I didn't want to come to you this way, it was against my better judgment, Rue. Everyone told me not to, but I needed to tell you. I'm asking, no, _begging_ you to end my agony," he said finally, so very close to me.

"I don't understand," I breathed.

"I love you."

My eyes widened.

"What?" I hissed.

"Willyoumarryme?"

I had barely understood what he said until it processed. My mind was reeling.

"Don't ask me that," I said darkly.

He reached forward, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Marry me," he repeated, his eyes earnestly searching mine.

I shrugged his hands from me.

"No," I said finally.

He stared back at me, "What?"

"I said no," I firmly repeated. "How _dare_ you ask that of me! You have proved yourself to be selfish and uncaring. Absolutely not."

"You don't mean-"

"These past two weeks have made me realise, Wood, that you are the last man in the world I could ever want to marry," my voice was tight.

"So that's your opinion of me," he whispered angrily, his face now inches from mine.

"Yes, yes it is," I shot back.

He stepped away from me and I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I had been holding.

"You are," he scathed, "the most insufferable woman on this earth."

"I know," I said haughtily, my disdain for him growing by the second as I put on an unaffected exterior.

"How could I ever have wanted to be with someone so pretentious, proud, and self-centered?" he said to himself, though I knew full well he intended for me to hear it, as he started to back away.

Suddenly, he moved towards me once again, his voice low. "Rue, do not toy with me. If you are doing this in spite, tell me so now. I apologise sincerely for any hurt I may have caused, but-"

"Stop," I whispered, the damage was already done. "I don't want to hear anymore."

I turned and let myself into the house, quickly slamming the door shut behind me.

I leaned against the wood, finally letting go of the blanket. Sliding down, I buried my face in my hands, listening to Oliver's footsteps as he walked away from the house.

I was so distracted by his footsteps, I hadn't even noticed those coming towards me.

Klaus squatted down next to me, "Rue?"

"How much did you hear?" I whispered.

"More than enough."

I let out a sob and threw my arms around my brother's neck, burying my face against his chest.

Why was life such a cruel joke?

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness, but that's just the way it's got to be! Anyway, I started my **_**Twelve Days of Christmas**_** one shot collection- go check it out. In the mean time, you know that J.K. Rowling created Harry Potter and that which you don't recognize from it is my own creation. However, I did indeed use some _Pride and Prejudice_ dialogue. Please do me the wonderful honor of leaving a ****review****! Yours.**


	15. Of Porridge and Benches

Klaus stayed at The Moorings until I fell asleep that night. He knew better than to talk about what had happened with Oliver.

The next few mornings were all very sluggish starts as I felt completely numb.

I slid into a chair, poking at the slice of toast I had accidentally burnt. I glanced at the calendar... One day until I was back to work.

I sighed, taking a bite of my toast, only to spit it back out. I scowled at my plate, my general anger at life focused on the crumbly thing.

Why was I angry at my toast?

This was getting ridiculous. I found I didn't miss work all that much. I got along well enough without Sean breathing down my neck about propriety, and, much as I loved them, it was nice to just have time to myself rather than spending all of it with Lara and Toni. In the past two weeks alone, I had read any book on Tudor England I could find, finding the passages about the witch, Anne Boleyn, particularly fascinating. All my research was neatly organised, and I had even written a proper script for the show.

Maybe I would resign. It had crossed my mind several times in the past few days. And that decision had nothing to do with Clancy, or Bray, or Oliver. It just wasn't as fun as it had once been. I rather liked being tucked away at home, boring as it could sometimes be, lounging about and reading. There were no worries, no scrutiny, just me, books, a fruit basket, and whatever visitor decided to pop by for the afternoon.

However, I probably just needed a break. I had been working nonstop for three years. I had gone through several bouts of doubt in that time, and I always decided that I had to stay. But a long holiday was certainly overdue.

"Rue?"

I looked up to see Klaus standing on the other side of the table, looking down at my plate in disdain.

"I brought you some breakfast."

"Oh, thanks."

"How're you getting on?" he asked, grabbing fresh bowls from the cupboard.

"I finished all my research," I supplied cheerily.

He pulled out the chair across from me and sat, serving up the porridge Anna had probably just prepared.

"Well, that's good, but you know what I was asking," he said with a pointed stare as he slid a bowl to me.

I picked up the spoon, choosing not to answer.

"Rue, c'mon, you can talk to me. I know I give you shit more often than not, but I've watched your relationship with Wood from the beginning, as dysfunctional as it was."

I shifted in my seat.

"That was the first time I've seen you cry since we were kids," Klaus murmured.

"What're you getting at?"

"You need to talk to someone, preferably me, about what happened," he said firmly.

"And why would I need to do that?"

"Because, knowing you, you're going to bottle it all up and make things even worse than they are now by doing something incredibly stupid that'll only backfire on you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So, out with it."

I was quiet, taking small spoonfuls of porridge as I thought over what exactly I wanted to say. That I was stupid? That _he_ was stupid?

"Right, so, he proposed to you?" Klaus prompted.

"Yes."

"And you said no?"

"Right."

"Why?"

I blinked a few times. I wasn't expecting that. Why _had_ I said no? I couldn't say for sure.

"I was upset, and I finally decided that I thoroughly disliked him."

"Then why are you still upset now?"

_Because you should have said yes_, the annoying voice of reason piped up. I quickly quelled it though. I was right to say no.

"I don't know," I said.

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Theoretically, based on your 'decided' feelings toward the bloke, you should be quite satisfied with yourself. And yet you aren't. So," he paused.

I continued to stare into my bowl.

"Why are you still upset?" he asked slowly.

He would have to drag a legitimate answer from my last dying breath. And, honestly, I _should_ have been happy and quite pleased with myself for rising above Wood's foolish nonsense. And yet I had been tortured.

I had barely slept, my thoughts keeping me up at night or suddenly awakening me from a pleasant dream turned hellish nightmare.

That wasn't how it was supposed to be, especially not when I got my way.

What in Merlin's name had happened?

Finally, I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I don't know," I whispered desperately.

"Do you still lo-"

"No," I said firmly, my hands falling to the table. "I couldn't possibly."

"Couldn't you?" Klaus volleyed back.

A tense silence settled over us as Klaus began picking up the bowls and made to leave.

"It's just a thought, Rue. Try not to kill yourself over this, yeah? You've got two days of work and then you're off for a proper holiday at home."

And with that, Klaus was gone.

* * *

"Ooh, it's beautiful!" Lara cooed as we walked up the hardened footpath towards Windsor Castle. We had already stopped off at Hever Castle and Hampton Court. We would be staying in London for the night to finish up there.

Normally we would just be piddling around as Robbie took photographs, but it seemed Sean was actually interested in where we were, so he insisted on all the tourist trap tours, which is why we were ushered inside the castle and up a flight of stairs by an eccentric elderly man.

I tried to hide my exhaustion from them. I hadn't done this much walking and climbing stairs over the past two weeks, and, pathetic as I inwardly felt, I put up a front of strength. Instead of asking to sit out for awhile, I would complain that I needed the loo, and off I would go to find a dark, secluded space to sit out of the watchful eyes of Sean, Robbie, Lara, and Toni.

I didn't want them to be concerned. The healers said I was far better off than most victims, especially taking my fall into account. I wanted to leave it at that. Two days of walking around and going up and down stairs couldn't be so bad.

And, besides, what didn't kill me made me stronger.

"Oh, uh, Sean?" I asked, faced with another long, steep staircase. "I'm, er, in need of a toilet, so I'll catch up with you lot in a bit, alright?"

I pointed behind me where I had seen signs earlier.

Sean regarded me for a moment, "Alright, be quick, though. Try not to get distracted by something! We want you in pictures for the pamphlet!"

I gave him a mock salute before speeding off in the other direction. Once I turned a corner, I plopped down on the first bench I could find.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold stone wall.

This was our last stop for the day before heading to The Leaky Cauldron for dinner and sleep. I had owled George this morning to tell him I was going to be in town, should he fancy seeing me for dinner or something.

He probably had a date with Angelina, though, so I wasn't holding out for him.

"Rue?"

My eyes shot open. Robbie, looking concerned, stood in front of me.

"You alright, then?"

"I'm fine," I said softly, sitting forward and wringing my hands. I wasn't sure how much time had passed.

Robbie raised his eyebrows and sat next to me, "I think if you tell Sean you aren't up for all the moving about, he would understand-"

"It's nothing, I'm just tired."

Robbie put a hand on my knee, "Rue, you've already impressed everyone with your quick recovery, and I promise we'd be forgiving if you needed to take it easy."

"It's just one more day," I sighed, leaning and resting my head against Robbie's shoulder.

He was right. I didn't need to impress anyone by pretending.

I hated when other people were right.

"C'mon," he said, squeezing my knee, "you're going to check in at The Leaky Cauldron early, alright? Have yourself some dinner and go to sleep. We need you tomorrow, and then you get a long vacation. That'll be nice."

He gently lifted me from my seat and pulled me to him. In an instant we were standing in front of Tom.

"She'll have some stew," Robbie said, guiding me to a table. "And her room key!" he called after Tom.

"I'll tell Sean you're here, and we'll see you in the morning. You need to be in top shape for the Tower, Westminster, and Saint James tomorrow. Try not to get into any bar fights with anyone, yeah?"

I nodded, "I'll try."

* * *

_Rue. _

_Rue. Rue. Rue._

Over and over, his voice saying my name.

_Rue_.

I turned to him. His fingers traced my lips before pulling me to him.

_You infuriate me_.

And he didn't let me say anything in return, taking my lips with his own.

I pulled away from him. _I'm sorry_.

He shook his head and moved to turn away. I caught his sleeve, stopping him.

But I didn't know why I stopped him.

_Rue?_

Was I...crying? He stepped forward and cupped my cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumb.

_Why did you do this to yourself?_

I didn't know what he meant.

_What did I do wrong?_

I didn't respond.

_Tell me the truth._

What truth? _You already know it. _Apparently, Dream Rue knew what he was talking about.

_I need to hear you say it_.

Hesitation... _Because I love you_.

_Then come back to me_.

I shot up, the quilt pooling in my lap. I brought a shaking hand to my face, finding my cheeks tearstained.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, but that only encouraged the twisting in my chest and the sudden cry I couldn't hold back.

I wrapped my arms around myself as my body shook with sobs.

He had been the one to break up with _me_. He had made no effort to make amends in the three years following. He stood by idly while she tormented me for a week. And he had the nerve to propose only days after breaking up with the woman who had almost killed me.

And now I was a weak, vulnerable, sobbing mess. A mere shadow of the once strong, confident woman I had been.

Oliver Wood had ruined me.

I did not love him. I could not love him. I _would not_ love him.

* * *

**If you haven't already checked it out, I suggest you scoot along over to **_**The Twelve Days of Christmas**_** for some fun reading. There are two Rue & Oliver one shots among other characters, including Lizzie & Remus! Now, Rue's having a hard time; she has no idea what she wants. Poor, stubborn dear. I'll update again tomorrow so as to not keep you in suspense for too long now that she's decided she won't love Oliver. As always, JK Rowling owns the **_**Harry Potter**_** universe, and I that which you don't recognize from it. Also, as always, do be kind and leave me a ****review****! Yours.**


	16. Of Mini Quidditch and Close Encounters

"Merry Christmas!" Toni cried as she pulled me into a hug. "Try to stay out of trouble, and don't have too much fun without us."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll try," I said as I awkwardly patted her on the back a few times before she released me.

"It's gonna be so weird without you showing up at my apartment these next few weeks! Oh, Rue, I'll miss you," Lara said as she pulled me into a tight hug from behind. I suddenly understood how Meister Eule probably would have felt all those years being squeezed.

I squirmed out of Lara's embrace and placed my hand on her shoulder, "You'll survive." Lara swatted my hand away and rolled her eyes.

Sean took my hand in a firm shake, ever the professional, "Happy holidays, Rue. Take it easy, you deserve it."

"Er, thanks, Sean."

"Well, ladies, this is us," Sean said, checking his watch before he motioned to the ratty old hat sitting on the table in front of them.

"Bye!" Toni and Lara sang in unison before grabbing onto the portkey at Sean's insistence.

Robbie and I watched them disappear. "Well, I'll be seeing you in the new year," Robbie said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah, happy Christmas, mate."

He smiled back at me before turning to leave. I rolled my shoulders and walked out the back door of The Leaky Cauldron. Rose and Fiona were going to meet me for dinner in an hour, so in the time until then, I figured I would pay a visit to George.

* * *

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was mobbed with packs of school kids who had just returnd from Hogwarts for the holidays. Instead of tracking George down, I meandered up and down the aisles for a bit. I was bound to bump into him or Ron eventually.

"'Scuse me- Rue?" I looked up from a jar of jumping snakes to see Ron staring at me over the top of a large box.

"Need help with that?" I offered, reaching for the bottom.

"Yeah, actually."

He nodded towards a stool near an empty shelf at the end of the aisle, "There."

I barked at some twelve year olds who were running down the aisle yelling. They stopped when I roared that I would hex them into finals week if they didn't turn their arses in the other direction. Ron laughed, "Don't remember you always having such a way with kids."

"Oh, you didn't know 'expert child handler' was on my résumé?"

He smiled and we set the box down. "So what're these then?"

He pulled back the top flaps to reveal miniature chests.

"Quidditch sets for goblins and house elves?"

"To be honest," Ron started slowly, "I'm not really sure. You'd have to ask George, he only just invented this a few weeks ago."

"Ah," I said, helping Ron and placing the chests in a neat row on the shelf. "Speaking of, where would I find him?"

"He's working the register."

I nodded. We continued working quietly, though I occasionally yelled at rambunctious teens as they wandered by us.

"Thanks," he said as we finished.

"Yeah, no problem."

"So you off work now?"

"Yeah, for three weeks."

"That'll be nice," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sensing the awkwardness that settled over us, I quickly excused myself and went to the register to find George. The queue had dwindled and there were only the three young students I had told off earlier. They cowered in fear as I glared evenly at them.

"Hey, Georgie," I sang happily.

"Rue, my dear! Lovely to see you," he said as he bagged their purchases and slid them across the counter. "There you go."

One of the boys snatched the bag and the trio dashed towards the door after one last glance at me. George raised an eyebrow, watching them go, "What was that all about then?

"No idea," I shrugged.

He leaned over the counter, "Can I help you find anything?"

"No, just waiting to meet up with Fiona and Rose."

"Ah, the gang reunites, eh? Minus Carrie?"

"She's got night duty, unfortunately. The trials of being a healer and all that."

George suddenly perked up. "You wouldn't believe who was in here the other day," he started. "But, before I get to that, you saw the mini Quidditch, yeah?"

"I helped Ron pull of the chests, yeah."

"Want a demonstration?" George was practically bubbling with excitement.

I laughed at his eagerness. It was refreshing to see him this happy again. "Sure," I smiled gently.

He reached under the counter, pulling out a board, a box, and one of the chests. He unfolded the board and, with the flick of his wand, goal posts were erected on either end. Next, he opened the black box, two teams of Quidditch players on broomsticks zooming out and onto the pitch. I recognised the teams immediately- Gryffindor and Slytherin. Sometimes, George was quite predictable. The players, if you could call them taht, were no bigger than the palm of my hand. George then opened the chest, releasing two tiny bludgers, a miniscule snitch, and a small quaffle.

"Get our your wand, we're playing."

I smiled before reaching into my pocket.

"Now, you control the team with you wand, obviously. You're in charge of all the players, and you can be as brutal as you like," he instructed.

The match lasted about twenty minutes. Ron sat and watched us for half of it until my beater _accidentally_ bashed in the head of one of George's chasers. The chase for the snitch had been fast, and I was barely aware of what had happened because I had been concentrating on my chasers. So George won because, apparently, he had the better seeker. Personally, I think he rigged it, and it's a wee bit difficult to play two positions at once. Nonetheless, it was probably the most exciting and entertaining game I had recently played.

"That was bloody fantastic. How much do these run?" I gestured to board as George took the small balls from the players' hands.

"Free for you," George said.

Ron snorted from the back room, "No one else gets free merchandise. Why's Rue so bloody special?"

"Because she's the most brilliant witch I know," George called back, giving me a wink. I rolled my eyes.

George shuffled behind the counter before handing me a box wrapped in purple paper, "Everything's inside. You've got the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor set. Happy Christmas," he smiled cheekily.

"Thanks, I love it," I laughed, setting it on the counter in front of me.

"Now, to the other news, Oliver was in here just the other day."

I raised an eyebrow, not sure why George was bringing this up. Surely he knew about the entire predicament. "Lovely," I said dismissively.

"So?"

"What?"

"He broke up with Bray. You're both single now."

"Oh, he didn't tell you, did he?"

"Didn't tell me what, Rue-Rue?"

I stuck my tongue out at him before composing myself. "He proposed," I said softly.

"He _what_?" George asked, eyes wide.

"He proposed," I repeated.

"Did he?"

"He did."

"Just like that?" Understanding washed over his face.

I nodded, "Just like that."

"Blimey, thought I told him to wait-" he said softly.

"Well, he came to The Moorings and, wait, you _what_?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head," he said, waving me away as I leaned closer to him over the counter.

"_You_ told him to propose?"

"Well, I didn't think he was going to run off and do it immediately, did I? You can't blame me, Rue. So what did you say?"

"No, of course! You're such a twat, George," I sneered.

He shrugged, "He even have a ring?"

"No!" Was that really so important?

"What's that around your neck then?" George asked, reaching forward and lifting the chain I wore. He turned the silver band between his long fingers. "The nightly heavens are not more beautiful," he read softly. "Now _that's_ horribly romantic. Who's this from?"

I looked down at it. "Oliver gave it to me years ago," I said softly.

"Ah, and you still wear it?"

I glared up at George before tugging it from his grasp. "I've really got to be going. Thanks for the present. See you around," I said quickly, grabbing my box and hurrying out the door as George chuckled behind me.

* * *

"There she is! We thought you got lost or decided to go back to Boston with those Yanks," Fiona laughed as I approached their table.

"I was visiting George, don't worry."

"How's he doing?" Rose asked. "He still single?"

"Hell if I know, Rose. Don't go chasing after younger men, it's uncouth," I said jokingly.

She made a face at me before taking a swig of beer.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. "Sorry I kept you waiting."

Fiona smiled, "Don't worry. You fully recovered yet?"

"Tip, top shape."

Fiona and Rose exchanged looks. "Carrie said otherwise," Fiona said.

"And how would she know?"

"She maybe peeked at your file or something," Rose said.

"That sneaky little-"

"Now, now, she was just checking up on you."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm just tired, all the time. And recent... _events_ haven't helped any."

"Oh?" Rose asked just as Tom approached the table for our orders.

"Well, I had work the past two days, and I'd rather not talk about the other happening."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with Oliver, would it?" Fiona asked, her eyes fixed elsewhere as Tom left.

"Actually, yeah."

"Something bad?"

"I'd say so."

Rose elbowed Fiona, bringing her from whatever had entranced her.

"Out with it then," Rose encouraged. "We're used to the ranting."

"He proposed."

Fiona choked on her drink and Rose's jaw dropped. "He _what_?" they cried in unison.

"After the Bray thing?"

"You aren't even dating!"

"What in Merlin's name was he thinking?" Fiona hissed.

I threw my hands up in the air, "I have no bloody clue! It's absolutely ridiculous!"

Fiona groaned, sliding her hand over her face.

Rose sighed, "Why are you two so messed up?"

"How do you mean?"

Rose gave me a pointed look, opening her mouth to say something when Fiona suddenly shot up from her seat and bolted. I turned to watch as she disappeared behind the staircase, someone stumbling after her.

"Er, what's Fi up to?"

"Don't you mind."

"Right, anyway, you were saying?"

"You two! He's desperate to have you back, and you're as stubborn as ever!"

"I don't think 'desperate' is the right word."

"Yes, yes it is! Knowing both of you, that's what it's fated to be. And you can't stop thinking about him, can you?"

"How did you-"

"Rue, I've known you for a _very_ long time."

I grunted. Rose rolled her eyes.

"So what's your plan?"

I shrugged, "Trying not to be bothered."

"Difficult for you, eh?"

"You might say that," I conceded.

She sighed, "Well, do whatever it is you do, Rue. I know you won't take too kindly to what I have to say, so I won't say it."

"Right you are, Rose," I smiled.

* * *

Fiona eventually returned to the table, and she fidgeted throughout the rest of our meal. As we finally stood to leave, saying our good-byes for the time being, I turned to look at the bar.

There he sat, flanked by two other blokes who were talking animatedly. His eyes, however, were glued to me. I could hear my heart pounding.

He stood and began to cross the room. My mind was racing. What was he doing here? How long had he been sitting there?

I must have looked murderous as Fiona wrapped her hand around my arm and started pulling me towards the door. Rose stood in front of him, preventing him from getting any closer.

His lips moved, but I couldn't hear him. I opened my mouth to shoot something back when it registered that Oliver must have been the one Fiona had snuck off with so suddenly.

Why she had been so antsy and distracted. They must've talked.

I turned to look at Fiona. She too was frantically saying something, her hands on my shoulders. I shrugged her off and pushed passed her, infuriated that she was essentially fraternising with the enemy.

As soon as I stepped outside, I concentrated my thoughts on Chilverton Elms, momentarily dispelling the close encounter from my mind, and disapparated.

**

* * *

Sorry for the wait! I was visiting the Wizarding World in Orlando again, and now I've got to head back to school. I'll have another update out tomorrow, though, since I've got a long plane ride ahead of me. Hope you enjoyed. If you haven't, it might be a good idea to scoot on over to **_**Twelve Days of Christmas**_** and read chapter 12- it'll actually be pertinent to this story in the next two chapters and I'm not planning on reposting it in here, unless everyone would like me to. Now, as you know, JK Rowling owns the HP Universe, I own that which you don't recognize. Please review! Yours.**


	17. Of Sloppy Kisses and Sneaking Around

Chilverton Elms was bustling with holiday excitement as the extended family from my mother's side, the Fassbinders and the Brownes, appeared in the parlour with beer, wine, and wrapped presents.

My mother embraced her sisters, Aunts Ema and Edeline before pressing kisses to the cheeks of Uncles Charles and Sebastian, respectively. My father did the same in reverse order. Then they turned their attentions to Klaus, Anna and I. After some sloppy kisses and bone-crushing hugs, the three of us moved towards the dining table.

"Where are Mina and Clovis?" Mum asked of her sisters as she surveyed our cousins.

"Mina's at her friend's Christmas party," Aunt Ema said. "The boy she fancies is supposed to be there, and you know how teenage girls are," she added, her eyes flicking towards me.

Aunt Edeline smiled, "Clovis chose to spend the holidays at Hogwarts."

"No matter," my mum said cheerily.

Klaus was the first to crack open a bottle of beer, followed by Maximillian and Uncle Friedrich as they swarmed around the box of bottles on the table. I gladly accepted the glass Uncle Charles shoved into my hands, insisting that drinking wasn't just a men's sport. I rolled my eyes and knocked back a few glasses in the span of two hours.

Mattias, the oldest of Aunt Edeline and Uncle Sebastian, kept eyeing my near empty glass that sat on the coffee table next to me as we played a game of Exploding Snap.

I glanced towards the adults of the room. They were gathered around the piano and laughing about some joke Uncle Friedrich had just shared. He was fifteen, and for Merlin's sake was part of a German family. I saw no harm in it.

"You want some then?"

Matthias' eyes widened, "Er-"

I offered him the glass, "Finish it off and I'll go get more."

He snatched it and gave a triumphant smirk towards his two younger siblings, Adelaide and Sterling, before knocking back the last gulp.

"Whoa, easy there," I said laughing as he pushed the now empty glass into my lap.

He gave me a thumbs up.

I rolled my eyes, throwing down my cards as I stood to go refill my glass.

As I was about to open another bottle, Klaus tapped his own with his wand. "Can I have everyone's attention please?" he bellowed dramatically.

The room quieted down.

"Anna and I have an announcement to make," he said, warmly smiling at his wife as he wrapped an arm around Anna's waist and pulled her to him.

My brows furrowed, turning my gaze to my parents briefly who looked just as confused as I felt.

"Klaus and I are pregnant," Anna said softly, lovingly looking up at my brother.

Such a sweet moment. I had to fight back my gag reflex.

After a shocked silence, the room exploded with congratulatory sentiments and applause. I smiled weakly as Klaus looked in my direction, something within me dropping to the floor and my mood immediately changing. "Congrats," I mouthed as I half-heartedly raised the beer bottle towards the happy couple.

* * *

I sighed, pressing my forehead against the cool windowpane and watching the flurries fall from the sky. I could see the reflection of my family behind me as they loudly sang "Stille Nacht" out of tune.

I wasn't in a celebratory mood, despite the warm atmosphere of Chilverton Elms. With all that had happened in the past month, it didn't feel like Christmas at all. From the return to England, the Quidditch fiasco, Oliver's proposal...

Honestly, what had he been thinking?

Probably something along the lines of, "Oh, Rue would be accepting and still loves me, so I should probably just propose to her."

No, absolutely not, Mr Wood.

Uncle Friedrich clapped me on the back, bringing me quite suddenly back to reality.

"Rüdiger!" he boomed.

"Yes, Uncle?" I asked, not turning away from the window.

"Join the festivities! Christmas 1999- there's plenty to be happy about!"

I huffed. Why was everyone in my family so damn happy when they were drunk?

"Look, I'm sorry but I'm just not in the mood," I said, turning to look up at him.

He sat on the bench beside me, as if my depressed state sobered him up. I chalked it up to Uncle-y Concern.

"Rue, what's got you all bothered?"

"Nothing," I hummed, turning away again.

He raised an eyebrow. "_Ach du lieber_, it's that Oliver fellow, isn't it? Do I need to go after him, _alte Socke_?"

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "No, you really don't. It's just-"

"Klaus, the good man, told me what happened."

"Wha-"

"The... _proposal_," he said in a low voice.

_Klaus_... I slid my eyes over to my brother who was talking animatedly with Maximillian and Molly. I'm certain one eye twitched out of irritation.

"I would've done the same thing," Uncle Friedrich said firmly.

"Yeah?"

"_Ja_," he said with a wink.

"And what would you be doing right now, then?"

"Probably moping," he shrugged. "Can't be sure, though. I'd make a terrible woman. I have the emotional capacity of a rock!"

Uncle Friedrich paused thoughtfully, taking a sip from his boot-shaped glass, "_Zwar weiß ich viel, doch möchte ich mehr wissen_..."

"Mmm," I hummed, "knew more about what, though?"

"Love," Uncle Friedrich said softly.

I turned to look at him, "Really? You wish you knew more about _love_?"

He shrugged.

"Mister Happy Bachelor himself? Love?" I snorted. "I find _that_ very hard to believe."

"I'm not saying I want to get married to the first thing with tits," he said bluntly, laughing. "I just think it might be nice to know."

"What do you mean?" I asked softly, turning to face him again.

"Well, seems to me he still loves you, yeah? He told you so, didn't he?"

"Yes," I said slowly.

"And," he held up a finger, "don't take offense, but I would be willing to wager that you still care for him too. You wouldn't have gone out of your way to make him jealous otherwise, knowing you. And that didn't really turn out as you were expecting, either."

"What I'm saying is, if I've learned anything over the years, it's that things happen when they happen for a reason. Now wasn't the time to accept a proposal. It's too soon; the wounds still hurt, no?"

I nodded, soaking in my uncle's infinite wisdom, even in his drunken state.

"Now, I don't know anything about love personally, but I _do _know that he loves you. And you, whether you admit it or not, do or will feel the same. I would think you should give yourself time to collect your thoughts and what have you. But when you've got yourself all sorted out, you go back to him. He isn't going to wait forever, but he hasn't shut you out just yet."

"Right," I said softly, staring into my lap.

"Alright," he stood. "I will leave you to wallow in your self-pity. Cheer up," he said, gently nudging my shoulder.

I sighed, turning to stare out the window again.

The reasonable voice in my head said that he was right, maybe I did still love him. But the embittered part of me shot back that Uncle Friedrich even admitted he knew nothing of love, so there was no reason to listen to him and his completely barmy theories.

I wasn't ready to love anyone just yet, and that was that.

I was such a cynic.

"Rue-Rue," Klaus sang, "it's time for presents! C'mon, join us!"

I dragged myself from the window seat to join our cousins in the present exchange.

* * *

The wee small hours of the morning saw the extended family's departure. Not long after that, Uncle Friedrich returned to The Moorings, and Klaus and Anna returned to their home in Temple Ewell. My parents retired for the evening, bidding me good night as I sat quietly on the sofa. Silence had settled over Chilverton Elms as I quietly snuck into my father's study and rummaged through the drawers to pull out the heavy, old key to the archives.

It had been weighing on my mind all evening, since Klaus and Anna had announced their happy news, and I wondered if the future, _my_ future, had at all changed. Perhaps the old book had been wrong. Yes, Oliver _had_ proposed, but I certainly had not said yes.

The heavy door gave way as I pushed my body against it. "_Lumos maxima_," I whispered, the light at the tip of my wand flooding the room. The book, unsurprisingly, remained exactly where I had left it on the table. Untouched, undisturbed. I hesitated a moment before shutting the wooden door behind me and slowly moving towards the chair.

I placed my wand and the key on top of the table as I settled, taking a deep breath before opening the thick and ancient tome.

The binding cracked.

The family motto glared up at me as I looked down at the first page, and my uncle's voice floating into my mind. _Love_.

I slowly leafed through the pages until I came to the last page of the family tree. My eyes immediately went to my name at the bottom of the page.

Sure enough, the blue line remained, delicately connecting _Rüdiger Von Straussburg _to _Oliver Wood_.

I stared at it for a long time, turning the silver ring between my fingers.

Finally, I shook my head and closed the book, grabbing my wand and the key before retreating upstairs to my bedroom and collapsing on my bed. I was exhausted.

* * *

**I am **_**so**_** sorry for the wait. I hope to have another chapter up today or tomorrow. School has been just a little bit overwhelming- I'll try not to suck as an author from now on. Some of you may recognize a bit of this chapter, and I'm sorry I made you reread it. Hoped it was still to your liking! If you would, scoot on over to Blackened Silver's **_**Black Frost**_** for some SiriusOC goodness. As always, Jo Rowling owns the HP Universe and I would be extremely honored/motivated if you left a review! Yours.**


	18. Of Deeds and Charms

"Rue-Rue!" Klaus bellowed.

I groaned, rolling over and burying myself in my sheets. Perhaps if he couldn't see me, he would leave me alone.

The door opened with a bang, "Rue! You're the only one not up. It's time to exchange presents."

"This is a horrible nightmare, this is a horrible nightmare, this is a horrible nightmare," I mumbled, silently praying that Klaus would go away.

My comforter was ripped from me. "What in the bloody hell-"

"_Presents_!" Klaus hissed, child-like excitement in his eyes.

"Merlin, I haven't even had breakfast yet," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"C'mon, c'mon, Uncle Friedrich is making pancakes. But we need to open presents first," Klaus said matter-of-factly, pulling me up and out of the bed. I padded behind him as he led the way to the stairs.

"I don't see what the rush is, it's just us," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair as we reached the foot of the stairs. "Unless you got me some magnificent gift."

He shot me a look over his shoulder.

"I'll take that as a no," I said, leaning against the frame of the archway leading into the parlour where the tree was set with a few boxes underneath. I glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. _Seven_ in the morning?

"Merlin, did you two even sleep last night?" I demanded, looking between my brother and Anna. She shrugged sheepishly.

"Of course we slept," Klaus interjected, flopping down into the armchair next to the fireplace. "Mum! Dad!" His face brightened as a hand clapped down on my shoulder. I looked up to see the rosy face of my father.

"Who's ready for presents?" he bellowed.

My mother slipped into the kitchen, and I heard her ask Uncle Friedrich to join us as soon as he was done with breakfast.

I settled onto the floor near Klaus' feet, my back to the roaring fire. A quick glance out the window, and I could see that we had another few inches of snow this morning. If we were younger, and if I wasn't still recovering, Klaus and I would have bounded down the stairs, hardly dressed to go out in the freezing cold, and burst outside, forgetting to close the door behind us. I would have proceeded to build a sloppy fort, while Klaus pelted me with snowball after snowball. Eventually, I would have been fed up with it, so I would chase after him with a fist full of snow before shoving it into his face. It had been years since we last did that. The Christmas of my seventh year, I think. And now Klaus was married, expecting a baby, and I was...well, a little worse for wear, but essentially the same.

A long box was placed in my lap, and I looked up to see my brother's face. He looked like he was about to burst from excitement.

"Well, don't just sit there, Rue-Rue. Open it!"

I glanced hesitantly up at Anna, who was sitting on the arm of my brother's chair. She just chuckled and shook her head, her arms wrapping around my brother's shoulders while she waited for me to open my present.

I quickly opened it, tossing aside the bow and emerald green wrapping paper. I lifted the lid of the box and held up...

"What, exactly, is this?"

I looked quizzically between the children's toy bow and arrow set in my hand, held together by a ribbon which brightly proclaimed "You'll never miss!"

"Remember when we were little, just learning to fly on our broomsticks?"

I scrunched my face, trying to recall. I felt like I had been on a broomstick since birth, so it was a little difficult to remember what my brother apparently did.

"'Course you do! And we both had sets just like this," he said, pulling one out from behind the pillow he leaned against. It was nearly identical to mine, but the feathers on his arrows were crimson, whereas mine were a deep blue.

I guess my memory loss could be blamed on my numerous falls.

He exchanged a glance with Anna, "We'd go flying around the castle, and one day you accidentally lost all of your arrows, shooting over the cliff, and you were bawling the rest of the afternoon!"

Ah, now _that_, I did remember. "And then I snapped the bow and threw it at you because it was _your_ fault that all my arrows were gone!"

The mischievous sparkle returned to Klaus' eyes once again.

"See! You do remember! Up for a rematch, sister mine?" He leaned forward.

I laughed, "Well, not at the moment, but maybe after a nap this afternoon–"

My mother cleared her throat.

"–or when I'm back in tip-top shape and all that."

"Deal," Klaus smirked, leaning back into his seat. "So what'd you get me?"

I rolled my eyes, reaching under the tree for a small, round package that I unceremoniously tossed at my brother.

He quickly tore through the paper and gave a triumphant _Woop!_

"And you said you didn't get me anything from Cairo! You saucy little nit!"

He eagerly shook the bewitched sand globe, and watched as the sand settled at the bottom to reveal a pyramid; he shook it again, revealing a mummy who lamely walked around and kept running into the glass; Klaus shook it a third time, and a Napoleon Bonaparte was suddenly fighting off the mummy with a small sword.

Klaus guffawed, "Aw, wee little Nappy! This is great, thanks Rue." He gave me a quick wink, before turning to present Anna with her gift.

I opened my parents' and uncle's presents. I was quickly surrounded by several large history tomes and a new stuffed owl, which Uncle Friedrich insisted only answered to the name _Kleine Eule_. ("A friend for _Meister Eule_!" he boomed.)

"Oh, Rue, this is for you," my mother said softly, holding out a small box.

My brow furrowed. "But I already opened all of my presents?"

"It came for you yesterday, but it doesn't say from whom."

I gingerly took it from her, waiting for my mother to finally turn her attention from me as Klaus started singing a Christmas carol as he stood to go to the kitchen, pulling Anna with him.

Not knowing who this gift was from, I decided to open it later. I placed it on top of the books my parents had given me. I stood and stretched slowly, just about ready to join my brother and sister-in-law on their way to the kitchen, when my father cleared his throat.

"Klaus, Rue," he began, looking between the pair of us.

"Yes?" Klaus turned slowly, his eyes sliding from Anna's, who looked just as confused as we did.

"Klaus, your mother and I have one last present for you, before we tuck in for breakfast."

I turned to my uncle. He only shrugged nonchalantly.

My mother handed a scroll of parchment to my father, who in turn held it out to Klaus. Disentangling himself from his wife, Klaus went to Dad and took the parchment from his hands. The family crest was pressed into the wax seal, midnight blue ribbon hanging out from under the wax.

"Open it," Mum coaxed.

Klaus slowly pulled the ribbon, the wax seal breaking, and delicately unrolled the paper. His eyes widened.

"Really?" He boomed, looking between our parents and then to Anna, who had come up beside him.

My dad slipped his arm around my mother's shoulders, nodding happily. "Oh, Klaus," Anna gasped, wrapping her arms around her husband.

Terribly confused, I reached for the parchment.

"The deed to Chilverton Elms?" I asked, just as Klaus snatched it back. He stuck his tongue out at me. "_Mine_," he hissed.

"Ah, and lest we forget," Uncle Friedrich interjected, apparently noticing the crestfallen look on my face, "we have a little something for you too, Rue."

I was handed a similar scroll which I was quick to unroll. I read half of the first sentence on the deed, before I flung my arms around my uncle.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cried, kissing Uncle Friedrich's cheek. My father laughed, as I'm sure my uncle was sneering at the contact. In my hand, I held the deed to The Moorings. An estate entirely my own, as soon as my uncle chose to leave it.

"Now, how about breakfast?" Uncle Friedrich asked, disentangling himself from me. I laughed and quickly slid to the kitchen in my woolen socks.

* * *

Later that afternoon, I sat in my room, staring at the small, unmarked box I had yet to open. It had started snowing about an hour ago, and I could see Klaus and Anna already playing outside in the snow.

There was a soft knock on my door.

"Come in," I called gently.

"A letter's come for you. From Clancy," Mum offered, joining me at my window seat. She handed me the envelope. I opened it, peering over the top of the letter at my mother every now and then. She wore a concerned expression.

_Dear Rue,_

_I hope this Christmas finds you warm, healthy, and surrounded by your delightful family. Sam seemed a little cold when he arrived the other day. You don't suppose he should invest in a sweater or something, do you?_

I snorted. That's the Clancy I know. I supposed he wasn't mad at me.

_I'm sorry this wasn't accompanied with a present. I'll send a little something along by New Years, though. I promise. (I'm thinking an owl sweater. I'm sure my Nana could knit up something quick!) _

_Things have been a little crazy stateside. I met someone. Thankfully _Witch Weekly_ hasn't caught onto us yet, but I think I'll be happy again. I know I will be. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, should I? Sorry. I've never been good at timing things. How are things with Oliver? He cares about you. Very much. In case you didn't know. _

_I still care about you. I still love you. As a friend. _

_Merry Christmas, Rue. _

–_Clancy_

I sighed, folding the letter again.

"Well?" Mum asked.

I held it out to her, "Go on, read it then."

Her eyes quickly scanned over the letter. She sighed, "Oh, Rue." She set the letter down on the window sill and reached out for me. I was pulled to her chest. Her hand gently smoothed over my hair, again and again. "Little Rüdiger," she said softly, using my childhood pet name.

"Mum, I'm alright. I promise. I'm alright," I said, my voice muffled by the fabric of her sleeve.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, I'm alright."

Who was I trying to convince? My mother? Or myself?

Frustrated, I slid from her grasp. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. "I promise I'm alright."

She cupped my face, "I know. You're a strong young woman, Rue." She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "You'll figure out what's right. You'll be happy again."

And that was when I lost it. I choked on a sob and reached out for my mother again. I cried into her shoulder for Merlin knows how long. By the time I was finished, I felt physically and emotionally exhausted.

Mum gently patted the top of my head. "Dinner is in a few hours. Try to get some sleep," she said gently.

I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I'm sure I looked like a five-year-old again, blubbering like I was. It was pathetic.

Mum was just pulling the door shut behind her, when she turned back to me. "Maybe you should open that present. It might be just the thing to lift your spirits."

I waited until she shut the door before turning my attention to the small box at my feet. I sighed, reaching forward and picking it up.

Turning it over in my hands, I tried to imagine who it was from. Certainly not Clancy, since he had just sent that letter, and this had been here waiting. I doubt Toni or Lara had gotten me anything else. I'd long since received their cards and gift boxes full of hot cocoa and tea. Not George, nor Sean, nor my cousins...

A silly thought crossed my mind. _Oliver?_ the small voice wondered.

Doubtful.

I huffed, finally tearing away the red and blue striped wrapping. Inside the box was a small leather pouch, the same blue as the wrapping paper. I slowly opened it, before turning it upside down over my hand. With a little thud, a small silver charm fell into my palm. It looked to be a small bow tied from silver rope. I turned it over several times, before unhooking the chain from my neck and sliding the charm onto it. It clinked against the ring Oliver had given me those years ago. I gently clasped the chain around my neck once again, gently rubbing the new charm between my fingers as I leaned against the pillows behind me.

I wondered what he was doing right now. If it was snowing, wherever he was. Was he home too? Was he thinking about me?

With a groan, I finally stood and walked towards my bed, only to collapse into the comforter.

* * *

**Soooooooo it's been a really, really, really long time, hasn't it? Oops...Sincerest apologies, dear readers! I really want to get this finished, so my personal goal is to wrap up this and _Rolling in the Deep _before the end of my senior year! As always, Jo Rowling owns the Wonderful World of Harry Potter and I own that which you do not recognize. Be the loyal readers I know you all to be, please review! Yours.**


	19. Of New Years and New Starts

"Rue, don't cancel on them," Klaus groaned, watching from the couch as I paced back and forth in the front hall of Chilverton Elms. "You told them you would go–for Merlin's sake, they're your best mates!"

I sighed as his hands clamped down on my shoulders, effectively stopping my anxious pacing.

"I don't _want_ to go out, though! I'm tired, I'm an old soul! It's already past my bedtime."

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Alright, _Mum_. C'mon. It's the last day of 1999–tomorrow is the start of a brand new millennium! I will not allow you to be the only person in the world not celebrating this momentous occasion."

I wriggled out of my brother's grasp.

"Plus, you already have a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night," Anna chimed in.

"Now, go put on your big girl dress, put your face on, and let's get you to London!"

I glanced at Anna who only nodded in agreement. I looked back at Klaus. Back at Anna. Back at Klaus.

"_Fine_!" I huffed, throwing my arms up in defeat and stomping up the staircase to my room.

* * *

"Oh, Rue, you look beautiful!" Anna gushed as I descended the staircase wearing a short, glittery navy dress with tights and a pair of heels. I had somehow managed to tame the wavy auburn mess I like to call my hair, and even "put my face on," as Klaus insisted. Men were so ignorant of make-up.

As I pulled my coat on, I tried my best to ignore Anna's continued raving. Klaus gave me a thumbs-up.

"Bye," I said shortly, apparating to Diagon Alley. I dumped my travel bag at the room I had reserved earlier in the week before setting out. We had all agreed to meet at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Realistically, I was only ten minutes late as I approached the door in the light snow. I was about to knock when it swung open to reveal George.

"_There_ she is!" he beckoned me inside. "We were starting to worry about you!"

Rose smiled warmly, "I wagered you wouldn't show, you old stick in the mud."

"_I_ had faith in you!" Fiona interjected.

They had since apologized for the incidence last time we went to The Leaky Cauldron. Since Fiona and Rose were my best friends, I forgave them. After all, it wasn't entirely their fault that Wood happened to be there at the same exact time we were.

"So, where to?" I asked hopefully, clapping my gloved hands together.

"Well, dinner first–we're already late, no thanks to you," George snapped, but there was a playful twinkle in his eye. "We're meeting some people for dinner first, and then winging it from there."

We trudged through the light dusting of snow towards Lena Fado's, a restaurant that had opened where Fortesque's once was. George held the door open for us as Rose, Fiona and I filed inside.

"Can't believe you made us late," George muttered as I passed him. I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach.

"Have you booked?" a woman, who I assumed to be Lena Fado, asked from behind the desk.

"Yes, should be under Weasley. Two of our party were probably just seated." George supplied.

She nodded, muttering something before gesturing that we should follow her. I was about to step forward when a hand wrapped around my arm.

"Now, Rue," George started quietly.

I glanced curiously up at him. George's hand dropped to the small of my back and he urged me forward, following Lena Fado, Rose, and Fiona.

"You have to promise not to get angry and lash out, alright? But I'm doing this as a favour. You can ignore him completely for all I care, but please don't be unpleasant. It's a new year, new start. Please?"

"Who are you–"

My eyes landed on the table Lena had stopped at. Already seated were Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood. Fiona glanced nervously back at me, noticing that I had frozen on the spot.

George squeezed my hand before pushing past me. "Angie!" he boomed, pulling her into a hug. He shook Wood's hand before sitting next to Angelina.

I gathered my wits, as best I could, and approached the seat open for me. Of course, that seat was next to Oliver. The glare I shot at Fiona and Rose would've killed them if glares could. I gracefully (or so I hoped) shrugged out of my coat, hung it on the back of my chair with my small purse, and sat down, pulling the napkin into my lap. I gave Oliver a brief nod.

Despite what everyone seemed to think, I could be civil.

"Hi, Angelina," I smiled.

"Well, hey there, Miss Von Straussburg. Been awhile, hasn't it? You look great!"

"She does, doesn't she?" George cooed mockingly. Rose and Fiona laughed.

"She does," a soft voice said next to me. I don't know that anyone else heard it, so I opened the menu to block my reddening face from view.

After ordering a round of drinks and our meals, Angelina took charge of conversation, much to my relief. I kept my hands folded in my lap.

"So, what's America like, Rue?"

"Are the streets paved with gold?" George jumped in.

I shrugged, laughing, "I _wish_. But, ah, it's alright. Can't find a good cuppa anywhere, though, and I get stopped by everyone and people ask me to repeat the strangest things."

Angelina raised an eyebrow.

"The accent," Rose supplied.

"Precisely. I also have occasionally been threatened by my neighbors–they get raging drunk at Quadpot games and come back screaming 'U-S-A, U-S-A!' at the top of their lungs and then pound my door at 2 in the morning saying they're gonna throw me in the harbour with the tea."

"Quadpot," George scoffed. "Such plebs, those Americans. Play a real game, _y'all_."

Angelina smiled, "Yeah, George was telling me about you coworker...Tina? Tori? The Southern one!"

"Toni, yeah, she's a laugh."

"Did she teach you how to speak in a Southern accent?" Fiona asked. Everyone laughed.

"Like Scarlett O'Hara?" Rose added.

I raised an eyebrow, and the table got quiet.

"From _Gone With the Wind_–it's a muggle movie. I–look, you can't tell me you haven't heard of it, Rue, Lara said you two went to muggle cinemas together all the time!"

"I...okay," Rose finally trailed off. The waiter set our respective drinks in front of us before hurrying away.

"So what have you been up to, Angelina?" Fiona asked.

I glanced around the table, thankful conversation was no longer directed at me. My eyes settled briefly on Oliver, but he didn't look up. Something terribly interesting must have been at the bottom of his glass.

I thought I would be angrier with him, but for some reason what anger I did feel was more like a soft, underlying buzz. I doubted that was only because George asked me to play nice tonight.

By the end of dinner, we had decided to head to the Leaky Cauldron which, according to the couple at the table next to ours, had a live band tonight. I slipped back into my coat, smiling at Angelina as George helped her into hers. I adjusted the strap of my purse over my shoulder and turned, only to come face-to-chest with a black wool coat.

"Sorry," I muttered, side-stepping out of his way. I quickly followed Rose and Fiona out of Lena Fado's, our arms linked, as George, Angelina, and Oliver fell in step behind us.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was loud with music, people shouting over music, and a lot of final, 1999 toasts.

"Five minutes!" Someone shouted, and the pub erupted into cheers. We had been seated at a high table for at least three hours, and many old classmates had filtered in and out of the Leaky Cauldron during that time. George and Angelina had gotten rather cozy. Wood had loosened up a bit and was actually being somewhat pleasant, albeit awkward. Fiona, Rose, and I were busy retelling some of our Hogwarts antics.

A sudden idea hit me, and I slipped away. I pushed through clusters of witches and wizards to the counter and asked Tom for a round of Firewhiskey shots for our table.

"Actually, could I get an extra shot with that, Tom?"

He nodded.

Tom placed seven glasses on a small tray for me, which I gingerly lifted. I was just figuring out the safest route back to the table when Oliver approached me. My eyes dropped to the tray.

"Let me help you with that," he said softly.

I don't know why, but I felt so small.

I bit my lip, "Alright."

He took it from me and guided me back along the wall and to our table. He handed the tray back to me just as we arrived at the table, and I set it down once Fiona and Rose had cleared the way.

"What's the occasion?" Angelina shouted over the pounding music.

George seemed rather more interested in whatever his mind had decided transpired between Oliver and me at the counter.

"This," I said, gesturing to the shots of golden liquid, "is in honor of a very special someone who isn't with us here tonight."

Everyone else looked at me curiously, but a look of understanding and sadness washed over George's face.

"Fred was the younger brother I never had and always wanted, and I couldn't even dream up a better partner-in-crime, and I'm so terribly sorry I wasn't there..." I trailed off, my voice growing tight and raspy. George had come around the table to me and pulled me to his side. "I miss him more than anything," George whispered in my ear. "Thank you, Rue." He lifted a shot glass, "To Fred!"

"To Fred!" we all echoed.

Once we slammed our glasses back down to the table, a "Two minutes!" echoed throughout the room.

George gave me a slobbery kiss on the cheek, "Rue-Rue, I know Fred would want me to split his shot with you, won't you do me the honour?"

Rose passed me the last shot of Firewhiskey.

"How are we doing this?" I shouted back.

My eyes met Oliver's for a moment before I looked back to George who had bent down to my height. I rolled my eyes, "Don't be ridiculous."

"On my count!"

"What?!" I cried incredulously.

"Get your face over here," George said, pulling my cheek against his.

"This'll be good," Angelina chuckled.

"This is a terrible idea," I muttered, shaking my head as I passed George the seventh glass.

"One!"

"Two," Fiona interjected.

"Three!" the chorus echoed and I opened my mouth at the last minute as George tipped the glass back. At least half that shot dribbled down our chins and onto the front of our clothes, but we recovered after a lot of sputtering and laughing.

"To Fred!" George yelled again. I couldn't help but smile as I wiped my face with a small napkin.

People had begun counting down from thirty. It was almost midnight. George went back to his spot next to Angelina who handed him an extra napkin and helped wipe down the front of his shirt.

_Twenty-five, twenty-four_...

Fiona moaned, "I don't have anyone to kiss!"

"I don't either," shouted back Rose.

_Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen_...

"I'll kiss you, Rose!" Fiona said, throwing an arm around Rose's neck. I laughed and reached for my beer.

"Try to hide your jealousy, Rue!" Rose cooed, reaching across the table and squeezing my forearm.

"Oh, I'll try!"

"We are _so_ single!" Fiona sang.

_Eleven, ten, nine, eight_...

I set my glass down and licked my lips. The band had stopped playing for the countdown. Apparently, some of them planned to kiss each other before starting the first set of 2000.

I most certainly was not expecting a kiss at midnight, I thought as I twirled the ring and new charm on my necklace between my fingers. That was perfectly fine with me. I would be content to watch George and Angelina kiss–finally–and no doubt Rose and Fiona would be amusing enough to watch.

_Six, five_...

Just as I had resolved that I wouldn't be getting a kiss, I felt a gentle hand on my arm. I turned to look up at Oliver as that warm hand slipped low on my back, smoothing over the fabric of my dress. His other hesitantly reached out and laced through my hair as he drew closer.

_Three, two_...

Instinctively, my hand went up his arm and to his shoulder. I thought I wanted to push him away, but something kept me from doing so.

_One_...

And then Oliver slowly dipped his head, my eyes closed, and the only thing I felt were his parted lips pressed against my own. The cat calls, whistles, cheers, and music faded away. This kiss was unlike any other we had shared. My other hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck. Oliver drew me closer so that no space separated us.

Pulling away for breath, he pressed his forehead against mine. "Rue, I–"

Were those tears I felt forming in my eyes?

At that realization, something in me snapped. I quickly disentangled myself from him. I briefly noticed Fiona and Rose's stunned looks and, flustered, I snatched my purse and coat. "Bye everyone," I shouted quickly and left the table.

"Rue!" Oliver called after me as I weaved through the crowd as quickly as I could.

"Happy 2000!" someone shouted at me, clapping me on the shoulder as I passed by.

"Yeah, you too, mate." I waved them off before bolting up the stairs to my room.

I shut the door behind me and tossed my coat and purse in a chair. I sighed deeply and leaned back against the door after struggling out of my shoes and tossing them near the chair too.

My mind was reeling.

A sudden knock on the other side of the door shook me from my thoughts. I turned to open it, expecting the Spanish Inquisition from Fiona and Rose. But, of course, I wasn't that lucky.

Instead, as I flung the door open, I came face-to-face with Oliver Wood once again.

* * *

**I am so sorry it's been so long, but here you have an extra long chapter! I'm going to try to have another out this week, but no promises. As always, Jo Rowling owns the wonderful world of Harry Potter, and that which you don't recognize is mine. Please, if you feel so inclined, leave a review. Yours.**


	20. Of Little Feet and Confessions

With an embarrassing squeak of surprise, I made to slam the door. Oliver, however, had other plans, pushing back against it.

"Rue," he sighed, "please let me in."

I was still pushing against the door with all my might, but Oliver's shoulder held the door open. I huffed, blowing a lock of hair from my eyes.

"Why?" I snapped. I really wasn't in the mood for another proposal.

"Let me–I just–Can we talk?" he finally asked.

I drummed my fingers against the doorframe as I weighed my options, finally reaching for my room key and stepping out in the hall. The door closed with a soft click behind me.

"Fine," I crossed my arms over my chest.

Oliver looked between me and the door before shaking his head.

When he didn't say anything, I pushed past him and walked towards the staircase. Maybe I could escape.

And then I remembered I had left my shoes in the room. I halted.

"Rue, listen," Oliver said behind me. I felt his hand on my waist and I reluctantly turned to face him at the top of the stair landing.

"I am."

He nodded. His hand hadn't left my waist as he stepped closer.

"I am so sorry for everything–" he started. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to give a snarky reply.

"Don't," he warned, shooting me a glare.

I shook my head, waiting for him to continue. How many more times were we going to have this conversation?

"I really am sorry, Rue. For Keira, for–for that stupid–for visiting you the other week and," he struggled to find the right words, or so it seemed. "I just–everything–I messed up. I messed it all up with you."

He shook his head. I felt like we were back in sixth year. But I knew, or at least the adult part of me that had been growing over the years knew, that this wasn't entirely Oliver's fault. But I wasn't about to apologise.

"I just thought that maybe," he paused, looking at his feet. Or maybe he was looking at mine. They looked really small wrapped up in my tights. He was probably thinking about how ridiculously small my feet were. Great.

"I've missed you, Rue," he confessed. "I missed you before you even left, it that makes any sense. And then, all of a sudden, four years later, I see you in a pub in Piddle Twitten of all places, and you haven't changed a bit. You're–"

His dark brown eyes searched mine.

"Merlin, you're pretty," he breathed, his fingertips brushing against my cheek.

"Oliver, please," I whispered, turning my face away from him and pushing his hand away. "You're drunk."

"So?" he retorted. I suspected his growing frustration. "You are, too," he mumbled.

His hand fell to the long chain I wore around my neck. I looked down as he turned the ring between his fingers.

"The nightly heavens are not more beautiful than you," he breathed. My hand, entirely of its own accord and a little shakily, wrapped around Oliver's wrist in a feeble attempt to get him to release my necklace just as he turned his attention to the bowknot charm next to the wring. When his hand finally dropped, I stepped around him and walked back down the hall to my door. I had heard enough. And, in all honesty, I was probably on the verge of tears, listening to him say those words to me again.

"You still have it," he remarked.

I froze, having just pushed the key into the lock and turned it. I hadn't realized he had followed me.

"Of course I do," I said softly, staring blankly ahead of me.

"You can't tell me I mean nothing to you, then, Rue," he said, his temper flaring.

I turned sharply to face him, my hand not leaving the key. "I _never_ said that," I managed out in a tight voice.

"If you must know, the day I got your letter was one of the worst days of my life," I hissed. "I hated you, and I wanted to throw this stupid ring into the river and completely forget about you, but I couldn't, Oliver. I couldn't do it. And I've wanted to do it a thousand times since then, but I still have it. Of all the things I can't do, being unable to forget about you has got to be the most frustrating and impossible."

He only stared back at me. I angrily turned to the door and pushed it open. I could feel a migraine coming on–either from all the alcohol or the current, infuriating situation. I just wanted to crawl into my bed.

But I was going to have the last word, first.

"You broke my heart. Maybe you should apologize for _that_," I spat venomously. Just as I was about to step into the room and slam the door shut behind me, Oliver closed the distance between us, turned me to face him, and kissed me. I struggled for a moment, pounding a fist against his shoulder. But, he had me pressed to the doorframe and I eventually gave in.

This was entirely different from that gentle kiss we had shared downstairs at midnight. This was demanding and passionate and unapologetic and everything I didn't want in a kiss from Oliver. Not now, not after everything we had been through.

Instinct took over. My hands tangled in his hair as he hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around his hips as a sudden fear of falling hit me. Someone let out a low whistle accompanied with a clap as they passed us, but we ignored them. Oliver's mouth trailed kisses down my jaw and neck. My head fell back when his mouth reached a sensitive, small spot near my collarbone.

And then we were moving into the room and the next thing I felt was the soft bed beneath me. Oliver hovered over me for a moment. I could feel his breath against my neck before he leaned forward and kissed me again. My hands cupped his cheeks, and his scruff pricked my palms.

For a brief moment, I wished things had never changed between us. That I had never dated Clancy and he had never dated Keira Bray. That I had never left for America and had stayed here, with him, instead. I could have suffered through a job at the Ministry if I had known that it would come to this–this miserable place we were in. But I didn't make that choice.

Oliver's lips suddenly left mine. "I'm sorry, Rue," he breathed. "I'm sorry I did this to us."

For the first time, I noticed the smell of alcohol on him. I'm sure I didn't smell much better, but I was hit by a wave a nausea.

He gave me one last chaste kiss, "I–I'm sorry I broke your heart."

His hands smoothed over my legs before he pulled away with a deep sigh and left, pulling the door shut behind him. I was left staring up at the ceiling in the flickering candlelight.

What in Merlin's name had just happened?

That question would have to go unanswered. The nausea slammed against me again like a tidal wave and, groaning, I rolled over and crawled to the loo. It was going to be a long night bent over the toilet.

* * *

**I like to think I'm on a roll, and I wish I could promise you another chapter (that isn't just filler) this week, but I have midterms and a birthday trip. So, it'll have to wait until spring break. (Get this-it's my last year in college, and my parents bought my tickets to go home and cat-sit for a week and a half while they go on vacation.) As always, J.K. Rowling owns all things you recognize from her brilliant Harry Potter series. That which you don't recognize is mine. Anyway, thank you for reading and please review! Yours.**


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